Bewitched and Bewildered
by Gowdie
Summary: ﻿Harry finally manages to dig his head out of his delicate bottom. Now what is a bloke supposed to do? Deals with the emotional rollar coaster of coming out of depression and the delightful perils of first romance. HarryGinny RonHermione
1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:** This is something I have been puttering away at for the last several months. If anyone recognizes my handle from an infamous incident of a never finished fic in another fandom a few years ago, rest assured, this one is already complete. I promised myself I wouldn't post until it was totally in the bag. I just need to add a few transitions and edit wizard language and British slang a bit. I will publish each chapter as I go. Plus you know, I figured a five chapter story might generate a few more reviews than one giant fifty page behemoth. Tra la la. What?

Also, I know Ginny's name is Ginevra. Harry doesn't. Snerk. Boys.

**Chapter One**

It was the middle of August and a sixteen-year-old Harry Potter was once again sitting alone in the drawing room of number twelve Grimmauld Place. Harry knew the others living in the house were relieved that he wasn't raging at the world. The truth was he had been angry for an entire year. Now he was exhausted. He could barely move he was so tired.

Harry supposed he shouldn't feel so tired any more. He had slept pretty much exclusively during his time at Privet Drive. He had spent almost the entire month either unconscious or staring at his ceiling. He tried to read every once in a while, but after a few pages he would just start to feel sleepy again and would roll over and close his eyes. He barely saw his aunt or uncle, and that was fine by him. He didn't want to deal the with the Dursley's and they, apparently, were just as happy not to have to deal with him.

The move to Grimmauld Place was pretty much a nonevent. The guard showed up, Harry left with them, the end. Harry was fairly certain people had been tiptoeing around him that first night, expecting him to have some sort of extreme emotional reaction to being back in the old house. But he really didn't feel like having any emotions, so instead he ate a bit of toast and went to bed.

Somehow, being around people he actually liked gave him motivation to leave his room every day. But he still didn't feel like talking to anyone much. And amazingly, everyone around him seemed to understand and pretty much left him alone. No one even asked him how he was, though he could tell that Hermione and Mrs. Weasley both wanted to, desperately, but were holding their tongues. He was grateful for the respite. While at the same time he had to wonder if part of the agreed silence wasn't because no one really needed to ask him how he was. Even he could feel his own misery wafting off of his skin. And it seemed he was skinnier than he had ever been before, if that was possible.

In return for the space he was given he made the effort to show up to at least two meals a day. Even going so far as to make sure he cleaned his plate in an attempt to give Mrs. Weasley one less thing to worry about. Though he drew the line at seconds. In the evenings he would either sit and read with Hermione or play a game of chess with Ron before retiring once again to his bed. But the rest of his day was spent here, sitting alone, staring at a charred hole in an old tapestry.

In all of his sitting and staring he had recently come to two realizations, neither of them pleasant.

The first was that he hadn't really known Sirius very well. Harry loved him he was sure. He had started thinking of Sirius as something akin to a parent within weeks of meeting him. Having someone who not only cared for him, but made him his top priority made Harry feel as though his own place in the world was more stable, more secure somehow. But still he had only turned to Sirius on a few important occasions. Their time together had been stunningly brief. And as a result he knew almost nothing of the man who had been his godfather. A few stories about his teen years plus what amounted to maybe six weeks in each others actual presence and that was it.

The ache was still unbearable though. Harry felt like he had a hole inside him. It was during a rather emotionally shut down moment of thinking that his grief didn't make rational sense that he suddenly understood that a large part of what he was mourning was what he would never have. The future relationship he hadn't realized he was looking forward to, when the war was over and Sirius was free and they could finally have some time. Though Harry loved him, would have risked his life for him, Sirius was now another important person from his life that he would never truly know.

The second was even worse. Sirius may have known about the prophecy. He was the original secret keeper - Sirius must have known why James and Lily were taking Harry into hiding. It was Sirius who had hinted that Voldemort was after a weapon last summer. The weapon turned out to be the prophecy, which the Order was attempting to guard. He had to know and he, like Dumbledore, had kept Harry in the dark. If Harry was going to be furious with Dumbledore didn't that mean he had to furious with Sirius as well?

But Harry didn't want to be angry with Sirius. He wanted, somewhat fervently, to idolize him. And so he decided, the only solution was not to think on what Sirius may or may not have known about the prophecy too much. That was dangerous ground, so Harry simply refused to go there.

And so he sat. And stared. And occasionally dozed.

The truth was Harry was starting to get a little sick of himself. Sick of living inside his own head where his thoughts just kept going in the same circles, which only served to make him more upset and more tired. Part of him knew that the time was coming when he would have to rejoin the world of the living. The problem was the transition just seemed so impossibly hard.

Someone padded into the room. Harry didn't stir. It was only when the person sat down in the chair opposite him that Harry realized it was Ginny. That was okay. Except for the few times Harry had actively done something to hack her off, Ginny was mostly a benign presence. In fact he knew there had even been one or two times when she had somehow hit upon the right words to make him feel better. Including, at least once, when she had been furious with him. Which, all in all, in his opinion, made Ginny an alright person to sit with.

The silence lingered for a few moments before Ginny leaned forward conspiratorially and announced, "I think there is something going on between Ron and Hermione."

Harry barley managed a nonplussed "Hmm." This wasn't news. Something had been going on between Ron and Hermione since at least fourth year. Probably since they met. The only surprise was that it had taken an intelligent girl like Ginny this long to notice. Unless... Harry opened his eyes and sat up straighter. "Hold on. Do you mean 'going on' like you know why Ron gets all overprotective and jealous and it is unbelievable that he still won't admit it, or do you mean something is actually going on going on?"

She smiled at him bemused. "I've understood my brother's suppressed affections since he confessed to me exactly why he spent a night burping up slugs. No, I mean I think progress has been made. Something has happened behind the scenes that they aren't sharing."

Now that definitely caught his interest. "Why?"

"They had a huge row yesterday."

Harry slumped back into his chair and grumbled, "That's hardly something new."

Ginny gave him a look of deep annoyance before she continued. "Mum asked the three of us to go through some rooms that haven't been used for a while, to make sure nothing has moved in. We had been working for a couple of hours when Hermione asked if I knew how many rooms were left; she had a letter she had been hoping to write before dinner. Ron made this kind of noise, like a cross between groan and a snort." Ginny gestured with her hands to emphasize her point. "That was it. A noise. And Hermione completely went off. She told him something like she had really thought she could be patient and wait for him to pull his head out of his arse, but she just couldn't do it anymore. It's been two years and she can't just sit and bear the brunt of his jealousy especially if she isn't going to at least reap some of the benefits. She was done waiting. Either he could grow up and be a man or he could just sod off already because even though he was clearly insane he wasn't going to take her down with him." Ginny sat back, arms crossed, very self-satisfied. "Then she stormed out of the room."

Harry shifted in his seat, his curiosity raised, slightly. "Hermione really said all that? Even the arse part?"

"Almost word for word. It was bloody brilliant."

"And 'sod off' seems unlikely."

Ginny rolled her eyes in a dramatic gesture, which Harry was sure was intended to demonstrate just how extremely patient she was being with him. "That's the point Harry. I have never heard Hermione talk like that, but my dear brother has nearly driven her right round the bend."

"And Ron?"

Ginny smirked. "He just stood there, for about a minute, staring at the door. Then he went back to searching the room almost like nothing happened." Ginny became more animated again, as though reliving her annoyance from the moment. "I couldn't believe it. I swear I was about to hex him, restrictions for underage magic be damned. I couldn't live with having a brother that stupid. But then all of sudden he chucked the throw pillows he was looking under, muttered, 'bollocks' under his breath and walked out of the room."

If this was the end of the story Ginny was revealing herself to be a Ron and Hermione amateur. Harry's voice was slightly agitated as he demanded, "And you think this is a good thing? They had a fight like this before you know."

Ginny seemed incredulous as she asked, "Didn't you notice them yesterday at dinner?"

Harry answered honestly. "No." Truth was he barely noticed anything at all.

"They were being really nice to each other."

As if that was supposed to mean anything. He scoffed, "Ron and Hermione generally are nice to each other."

Ginny held up her hand. "No, I mean really nice. Ron refilled her pumpkin juice four times and she kept asking if he wanted more peas."

Harry shrugged, "That's hardly evidence of anything."

Completely exasperated Ginny nearly shouted, "Harry, he gave her the last piece of pie!"

So that was it then; Ron and Hermione were officially an item. If it was at all possible Harry started to look gloomier than he had when Ginny first walked in.

Ginny obviously noticed as she suddenly started to apologize, "Oh, I'm sorry Harry. I thought, I guess I thought this was fun news. Erm... I'm sure they will do everything they can to make sure you don't feel left out."

Left out? Harry hadn't even thought of that. Yet. "That's not it."

Ginny looked confused. "Then what's wrong then?"

Harry was silent for a moment. It was hard to explain without sounding silly. He had known this day was coming for ages, it was just... "I always thought I would be there." The terrified look on Ron's face alone was something he had been looking forward to.

Ginny gave an impish grin. "It was pretty classic."

Harry had always assumed when things finally came to their inevitable head he would be the one to pat Ron on the back and offer a few words of encouragement before sending his best friend off to face his fate. That was his job wasn't it? Somehow the moment had gone by without him.

When Harry continued to be lost in his own unhappy thoughts Ginny's face softened to a look of understanding. "I'm sorry you missed it. But don't worry Harry, in a few years Ron will be facing the horror of having to propose. Can you even imagine what a mess he will be then?"

"Yeah, I guess." Harry knew he was pouting, but he couldn't help it. And now Ginny had mentioned something new to fret about. "Gin?"

"Hmm?"

Harry lowered his voice, he didn't like sounding insecure. "Do you think I should be worried? About being left out?"

Ginny appeared to be taking her time in responding. Finally she quietly began, "The truth is, I have been told, by certain people, that when a girl gets a new boyfriend sometimes she tends to be neglectful of her own friends, but I think this will be different."

"Why?"

Ginny's voice became very matter of fact, "Because Ron and Hermione were already friends and the three of you are a pretty much an exclusive trio. If Hermione started dating someone outside your group, like, oh I don't know, from Ravenclaw or something, I am sure you would see less of her. But they already spend all their time together anyway, so it won't really be that big of a change."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Besides," she smiled a little wickedly, "as soon as you find a girl of your own, you'll be too busy to notice."

Harry let out a derisive snort.

Ginny frowned, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't exactly see myself dating any time in..." he was going to say the near future but suddenly felt the truth was really, "ever."

For the first time in the conversation Ginny looked like she felt a bit sorry for him. "That's too bad Harry."

Before things turned too maudlin Harry hastened to add, "It's not like I was any good at it anyway."

Following his lead Ginny smirked, "So the real issue comes out. Look, if Ron can manage you can't be that much of a lost cause."

That night at dinner Harry actually worked at paying attention. Ginny was right: Ron and Hermione were acting differently towards each other. More mindful somehow, but quietly so. Later when Ron and Harry played chess, Ron sat on the floor and Hermione read her book in the chair behind him. They weren't touching, but they were unusually close and the whole thing had an air of sweetness about it. Finally, as the trio made their way up the stairs for bed Harry realized almost belatedly that the pair had fallen behind and Harry reached the second landing alone. It was a full minute before Ron entered the bedroom.

The whole thing was a bit surreal in that Harry realized if Ginny hadn't pointed anything out to him he would have continued on in his own little world, oblivious. At the same time it was so obvious. It was with a bit of relief that Harry understood that they weren't working particularly hard at going behind his back, if they were doing so at all. They just weren't telling him outright.

Harry decided to let his best friend off the hook. He tried to sound as nonchalant as possible as he asked, "So how is it?"

Ron looked up from buttoning his pajamas. "How's what?"

Harry hopped onto his bed casually before he dropped the bomb, "Kissing our mutual best friend?"

Ron's mouth dropped. His hands froze. "How do you know?"

Harry shrugged. "Ginny figured it out."

Ron's arms dropped to his sides in defeat. "Figures, Hermione wasn't exactly discreet telling me off yesterday." He sat on his bed and looked at Harry a little cautiously. "Are you mad?"

Harry considered for a moment. He didn't feel angry. "Don't think so."

Ron started to explain, "We were trying to figure out how to tell you, but you haven't been around much. And we weren't sure if you were, you know, really interested in this kind of news just now."

"Makes sense."

Ron smirked a bit as he confessed, "I suggested we could just spend the day making out in here and maybe you would walk in on us, but Hermione wouldn't go for it for some reason."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Shocking that."

A moment passed before Ron asked seriously, "Are you sure you're not upset?"

"Should I be upset?"

"I don't know." Ron started to shift a little uncomfortably. "Hermione was worried you might feel left out or something."

That again. Perhaps it would be best if they dealt with this right now. Harry asked honestly, "Are you planning on leaving me out?"

Ron looked shocked, "No."

"Then there's nothing to be upset about," Harry said simply.

Ron didn't seem so certain, "I guess."

Harry tried for a joke. "Besides, it's not like I want to be included in anything," here Harry made a face to indicate exactly what he meant, "coupley with you guys anyway."

"Well that's good," Ron grinned. "Spares us the nasty business of me having to rip your lungs out."

"Let's make a deal," Harry offered. "We all hang out as usual and I'll pretend not to notice anything annoyingly flirty or cuddly and you guys can have your alone time while I have my Occlumency lessons with Dumbledore."

"Sounds good." Ron seemed to be considering seriously, "And if we need any extra snogging time there's always prefect rounds."

"Exactly." The two boys shook hands. Issue solved.

Harry felt good knowing everything was going to be okay. Ron and Hermione might have changed, but the three of them would stay basically the same. He felt so good in fact he couldn't help needling Ron a bit by asking again, "So how is kissing our mutual best friend?"

Ron's ears turned a distinct red. "Brilliant."

The next day Harry decided to make a change. He still slept in as late as usual, but after lunch, rather than taking up his post in the drawing room he joined the others while they did their chores. Harry knew Mrs. Weasley was essentially just making up things for them to do. It was probably a good idea, keeping the four teenagers at least partially occupied rather than letting them just sit around the house doing nothing and going completely barmy.

Today they were reorganizing the library. Hermione had become so enthusiastic Harry was just waiting for the moment when she was bound to suggest something dramatic like devising a card catalogue. He figured it couldn't be long. Currently they were only sorting by author and title. Harry knew the "disorganization" would get to her eventually.

Finally her thoughtful voice came from across the room. "You know, we really ought to create some sort of sub-system."

Harry snorted into the cover of the book he was holding and he caught Ginny covering her mouth, presumably to suppress a giggle.

For his part Ron slammed a rather heavy volume down on top of a dusty pile. His voice was firm, "Hermione no. This is busy work. Nothing more."

"But we could at least do something simple. General categories, like History, Potions, Transfiguration." Then she smiled, as though she thought she was offering a reasonable compromise. "We could just stick to the same topics as our classes at school."

Ron was not moved. "Oh really. Then where are we supposed to put this one, Trans-u-genesis: The Origin and History of the Transfiguration of Dangerous Creatures into Muggle Artifacts and its Application to the Modern Day Dark Arts?"

Hermione scowled at him, "You're making that up."

Ron waved the book at her. "I am not. Take a look at this." Ron cradled the book in his arms and started to turn the pages.

Hermione suddenly started towards him in alarm. "Ron don't!"

But she was too late. Without warning the book came to life and lunged at Ron, digging it's pages into his hand. The other three all moved at once. Harry struggled to pry the attacking volume off his friend and threw it on the floor. Ginny grabbed an enormous bust of a Black family ancestor and dropped it on the monstrosity, effectively stunning and pinning it to the floor. Hermione tended to a horrified Ron.

"It bit me! The bloody thing bit me."

"Oh God, it's already starting to swell," Hermione said sounding rather alarmed.

"Nearly took my arm off!"

"Ron calm down!" Hermione ordered. She turned to Harry and Ginny who were both still staring at the book warily. "I'm taking him down to Mrs. Weasley," she said as she started to lead a still muttering Ron from the room.

As soon as they were left alone in the room Ginny gave the book a slight kick. It groaned a bit in response but didn't move. "I don't think it can get out from under that," Harry said. "I'm half surprised you could even lift it."

"Well you know, adrenaline and all that," Ginny muttered darkly.

The two looked at each other for a moment, then smiled a bit, shook their heads and returned to work. It was amazing really, Harry thought, how before, something like an attacking book would have stopped the day, whereas now it barely generated any reaction at all.

Harry wanted to fill the silence. In fact he realized he was somewhat eager to have another conversation like the one they had shared yesterday. He just wasn't sure how to start. After a few minutes of pondering something occurred to him. Something he was curious about, so he decided to ask, "How's Dean?"

"Dean?" She seemed surprised at the inquiry, yet there was also something a little off about her as she asked a bit too defensively, "How would I know?"

"Well," Harry said, a bit confused, "you said you were dating him."

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did."

"No," Ginny insisted, "I am really sure I didn't, since I'm not."

Harry frowned. He was a bit annoyed actually. He had expected her to be honest with him. "On the train when you told us why you ditched Michael Corner you said you were dating Dean."

Ginny suddenly blushed crimson. "I didn't say I was dating him." There was a long pause as she stared at her shoes. "I said I've chosen him. And I have," here she looked up at Harry and rolled her eyes, "I just haven't exactly gotten around to telling him yet."

Harry didn't know what to say. "Oh."

Ginny rushed on, "I shouldn't have said anything. I usually try really hard to keep these things to myself, you know, to avoid total abject humiliation, but Ron just really pissed me off."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Abject humiliation?"

Ginny smiled at him then ducked her head. "Crushes can be so very embarrassing."

He couldn't leave it alone. "So you have a crush on Dean then?"

"I guess. I don't know." Her voice went a little high, "Maybe? I think I need to test it out a bit to be sure."

Harry's first thought was wondering how exactly she would test it out, but then he found himself needing to know, "So if you're not sure if you have a crush on Dean, why would you choose him?"

Ginny shrugged, "He's really sweet and nice, not to mention good looking. And honestly?" Harry nodded. "This might sound strange, but it kind of seemed like he might like me."

This took Harry completely by surprise. Not the idea that someone might like Ginny, she was likeable enough, but rather, "How could you tell he liked you?" How was that possible? He could never work out whether Cho liked him or not. Except for the few moments her lips were actually kissing his, he was completely lost. And even that certainty was immediately ruined when she started crying a minute later.

Ginny stared at him in disbelief, then snorted. "Oh please Harry, you can always tell when someone likes you."

Harry remained dubious.

Ginny sighed, "It's in the way they look at you, like their day just got suddenly better. Or some people get really shy all of sudden. There are a few guys at school who are real flirts, they look just as oozingly thrilled to see any girl, so it would be hard with them, but I didn't notice that about Dean."

Harry intentionally stressed the sarcastic tone when he answered, "You make it sound so easy."

Ginny looked thoughtful as she said, "I think it's harder when you like the person. Maybe you see things that aren't really there because you want to, but when you don't care it's usually obvious. Just like it's painfully obvious if someone doesn't like you. They look sort of apologetic, like they know how you feel and they're sorry. I think that was the look I was giving Dean last year, only because I was with someone, not because I didn't like him. Or worse, they always look skittish when they see you, like they walked into a trap. Deer caught in the headlights sort of thing." She darkened for a moment, "I really hate that one."

Harry felt the awkwardness of the moment with every fibre of his being. He was sure that the last comment was at least partly directed towards him. He wondered if he had ever looked trapped with Ginny and for the first time wondered if he had hurt her. He hadn't meant to, but her feelings toward him had just seemed so strange, he hadn't known what to do. Suddenly he felt like he should apologise. "I'm sorry if I ever looked like that. To you I mean."

Ginny shrugged. "It's old news Harry." After a pause she grinned at him, "I guess we're both glad that's over with huh?"

Without thinking Harry automatically responded with a positive, "Yeah."

At Ginny's sharp look he started stammering, "I didn't mean it like that. It's just, you never used to talk to me, so I didn't know you. And now you do, and you're really nice."

"Wow," Ginny smirked, "you keep talking like that and I might just fall in love with you all over again."

For a split second before he realized she was joking Harry felt his face begin to heat. Then when he understood she was making fun it grew even hotter. He frowned in an attempt to hide his discomfort. Something occurred to him then though that he hadn't recognized before. And it was suddenly very important that he tell her. He needed to make her understand so she wouldn't drift away and stop talking again. "I really like having you as a friend Ginny."

She smiled warmly at him, "Me too."

Though the moment was nice Harry felt very awkward all of a sudden. He needed a distraction and found he couldn't resist teasing her just a bit more. "Besides Virginia, I may have been the one who looked trapped, but it was always you who actually ran away."

Ginny stared at him wide eyed for a few seconds before she groaned, "Was I really terrible?"

"No." And when he honestly thought about it she hadn't been. He couldn't even recall a single time she had followed him anywhere, not like those girls used to follow Krum everywhere he went.

"Well that's good to know at least." A moment passed and then Ginny put her book down and said very seriously, "Look Harry, about Dean, please don't say anything to him. I want to take care of this myself, without any interference."

"Alright." Then curiosity got the better of him. "How are you going to let him know?"

A decidedly dangerous grin lit upon Ginny's face. "Oh don't you worry, I have my plans."

It occurred to Harry that he wouldn't be surprised if Ginny started rubbing her hands together and chuckling with delicious satisfaction. "Should I be worried about him?"

"Oh definitely."

Harry found himself wondering what it might be like to be pursued by Ginny Weasley. He supposed he should already know, but he didn't think that was really true. It seemed that now it would be different. Now it would be much, much better.


	2. Chapter Two

**Bewitched and Bewildered - Chapter Two**

It was amazing how fast time went by once Harry started actually talking to people again. Whereas before an afternoon alone in the drawing room seemed to stretch out to impossible lengths, now the days almost passed in their normal dimensions. It wasn't long until one morning Harry woke up and realized there were only a few days left until he would return to Hogwarts. And most amazing of all, he was looking forward to it. Mostly.

Seeing Dumbledore again would be awkward obviously. And Harry had been informed that he would now be having his Occlumency lessons with the Headmaster, so they would have to spend hours alone together. And he could barely even stand the thought of having to sit in Snape's class, but if he wanted to be an Auror it would have to be done. Not to mention what type of new menace he would have to face as a Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor.

Then there was the undeniable fact that if he returned to school, returned to life as normal, it would truly mean that the world had kept moving on, despite everything he had lost and despite all the horrible knowledge he had gained. And as a part of the world, he would have to move on with it. Locked away for the summer he had been somewhat safely cocooned with his comfortable grief. Now he would have deal with reality. It felt harsh. Cold. He wasn't sure he was ready. At the same time though, part of him wanted it. But whenever he allowed himself that longing he would be overcome with guilt a few minutes later. He didn't know how to reconcile all the feelings he was having, so he decided just to look forward to Quidditch instead.

There was one other thing Harry wasn't looking forward to. He had to tell Hermione and Ron about the prophecy. And soon. Probably before they left for school. It wasn't even a question. With everything they had gone through for him, they deserved to know. He already felt like he was betraying them somehow by keeping quiet for so long. He also felt that somehow the burden would be easier if he shared it with them, but he wasn't sure how to go about it.

The meeting would be horrible, he was sure. The stakes felt so high. Ron and Hermione were his true family, and he knew they would be just as upset as he had been. Just as shocked and angry and scared and, well, sad. He might die and there was nothing he could do to stop it. How was he supposed to tell them that? Plus he wasn't sure how to handle all of their emotions when his own were still in such turmoil.

Harry decided he needed a neutral party to practice on first. Someone he would feel safe talking to, without the weight of having to worry so much about her reaction. Ginny was his obvious choice.

Three days before they would leave for school Harry approached Ginny and asked if he could speak to her alone. He could tell her curiosity was peeked and he felt almost guilty as they walked to the library, knowing she had no inkling of the gravity of what he was about to drop on her.

He sat her down and started to pace about the room. He explained that there was something he needed to tell Ron and Hermione, but he was hoping he could practice on her first. Like a rehearsal. When she agreed he told her the story he was about to tell would be a shock, but he needed to get it all out before she asked him any questions or said anything. She nodded and made a bit of a show of getting comfortable in an attempt to lighten the mood, but he could tell that he had already scared her a little.

Once she settled Harry opened his mouth and let the whole thing spill. All of it. Every gruesome detail of what had happened in Dumbledore's office the previous spring. When he got to the prophecy he noticed her visibly pale, but he kept right on going. He didn't know how else to do it. Until finally, mercifully he finished.

Ginny just stared at him, mouth open a little bit, and it looked like she was exerting a large amount of effort on controlling her breathing. Harry stopped moving about and looked down at his shoes. "Well, that's it. That's all of it."

There was a brief pause. "Who do you want me to be first?"

Harry shrugged. She was taking the whole rehearsal thing a little more seriously than he had anticipated. Really he had just meant he wanted to practice getting the story out, while someone was listening, but he was curious as to what she thought the others would do. "Hermione."

Ginny was thoughtful for a moment. "She'll be very upset. She'll probably cry, though she will try hard not to. Then she'll probably say something bookish, like she'll research prophecies that have come true in the past or something. Try and find some loophole."

Harry grimaced. "And Ron?"

"He'll say something heroically loyal, like Voldemort will have to go through him to get to you."

Harry nearly shouted, "I don't want Voldemort to go through Ron!"

"I know Harry," she placated, "but that's just Ron, he'll back you no matter what. Can I be myself now?"

Harry put his hands in his pockets. "Okay."

Harry was in no way prepared for the explosion that took place. Ginny leapt off the sofa and started storming about the room. "That ruddy bastard! How dare he keep this from you! Especially with everything that has been going on in the last year!"

Harry remained quite still, watching her. And he suddenly found himself needing to defend the man he had still been so angry with only minutes before. "He explained though. He didn't want to put this on me after Cedric."

"Fine," Ginny waved her arms about, "so he didn't tell you after you watched Cedric die. You had been through a terrible ordeal. I get his fatherly feelings on the issue."

"Well," Harry offered, "it wasn't like there was ever a good time."

"Christmas Harry. He should have told you after my father was attacked at Christmas. That's when he knew there was a connection. That's when he knew Voldemort might be able to use you. He should have told you everything before it was too late. It wasn't just your life he was playing with." Suddenly Ginny stopped, her eyes tearing up. "I thought I was watching my brother die!"

Yes. And Harry had thought Hermione was dead. And then... Then... No, he was not about to go there right now. Harry's voice was very quiet, "That was my fault. It was my fault you all were there."

"No Harry," Ginny said firmly. "You were deceived by an evil murdering psychopath. But Dumbledore knew it could happen. And worse he knew that Ron and Hermione would follow you anywhere. And okay, Neville and Luna were a bit of a surprise, but if he had any sense at all he would have known about me too."

Harry was a bit taken aback by her temper, it wasn't at all what he had expected from any of his friends. His own anger had still been simmering a bit inside him and it was a surprise to watch someone else share it. But a comfort at the same time, like Ginny was somehow bearing some of his anger for him. And such a relief that her first instinct had not been pity.

But something in particular was nagging at him. "Why should he have known about you?"

She looked at him like he was crazy. "Don't be daft Harry, you saved my life." Harry felt a little disappointed in this answer. "And you were so decent about it. I felt so ashamed and embarrassed, but you didn't make me feel stupid, you even tried to leave me out of it when you had to explain what happened. I noticed that you know." For a moment her anger dissipated as she seemed to find something fond in the memory. "I owe you so much."

"I don't want you to owe me."

Her eyes snapped back to him. "Well we can't always get what we want can we? But we're getting off topic. Imaginary Ron and Hermione are both right you know. Maybe the prophecy says you have to be the one to kill Voldemort. Maybe you have to throw the final curse. But you have an entire army of people who want to back you. You won't be alone."

Harry felt a bit of his old irritation begin to return. "Funny, it always seems like I am alone. Whether it's giant chess sets or crumbling walls or port keys, I always end up alone."

Completely unabashed, "Maybe that's why you haven't killed him yet." Then she frowned. "Except that you weren't alone this last time."

Harry knew he wasn't making sense, but he didn't care. "A lot of good that did, he got inside my head! Took over my whole body!"

"Make up your mind Harry." Ginny sounded annoyed. "Either you don't want anyone to risk their lives to stand with you or you are bitter about having to face him alone. You can't have it both ways."

Sure he could. It made perfect sense to him. "I don't want to lose anyone else and at the same time I am pissed off that it has to be me."

Ginny's voice softened and she moved towards him. "You are right. It is terrible that it has to be you. At the same time, I think the rest of us are all very lucky." Harry started to speak but she cut him off. "Hear me out. If he had chosen Neville and everything followed the same pattern, you both still may have grown up without parents. Your aunt and uncle were horrible to you. Neville's grandmother has managed to make him believe he will never be as good as his mother and father. Yet you grew up strong and Neville is so insecure he can't even stand up to Snape."

"Snape is scary," Harry said dryly.

Ginny smiled. "And Neville manages to have surprising moments of bravery. I am just saying, everything considered, I am not convinced Neville would have made it this far. So on behalf of the world, I am sorry for everything you have suffered and I will support you as best as I can, but I can't help but be grateful that it turned out the way it did."

Harry hated that it had to be him. He hated it with every fibre of his being. Even so, Ginny's words and the look in her eye when she said them made him feel warm inside.

Now all that remained was breaking the news to Ron and Hermione. The next afternoon Harry and Ginny entered the study as a united front. As Harry informed his friends there was something he needed to tell them Ginny gave his hand an encouraging squeeze.

Ron immediately interrupted. "Is this about the two of you?"

Harry was shocked, that was the last thing he had expected, but it was Ginny who responded. "No you eejit," she said as she walked forward and gave a Ron a wack on the back of the head.

Ginny sat down giving Harry the stage and he began his speech about the story being a shock, but please not to ask any questions or say anything until he was done. And again he told his tale.

Ginny had been right; by the time he finished Hermione looked like she was on the verge of tears, but she was bravely holding them in. Ron on the other hand got out of his chair and paced about muttering curses and threats. Suddenly he stopped and asked Harry to repeat the prophecy again.

After Harry obliged Ron stated, "Well there you go," as though something was terribly obvious. "I know it isn't a happy prospect Harry, having to kill him yourself, but you know you'll be the one to live. Either or Harry, kill Voldemort and you'll be okay. That's good news isn't it?"

Harry loved his friend. Leave it to Ron to find a bright side.

"Well actually..." Both Harry and Ron instantly turned to Hermione who looked like she had decidedly been caught with her foot in her mouth. "Nothing. Sorry. Ron is absolutely right." Aside from her amazing masquerade for Umbridge, bluffing was never exactly Hermione's strong suit, but that had to be her most dismal performance.

Filling the awkward gap Hermione rose from her chair, walked over to Harry and gave him a hug. Her face still muffled against his shoulder she started to say, "You know, we really ought to go to the library..."

"Give it a rest Hermione, please," Harry begged. "Maybe when we get to school, but not right now. Alright?" Telling the two of them had been enough for one day.

Hermione looked up at him and nodded. "Alright." She took a few steps back, straightened her dress and asked, "What do you want to do?"

Harry thought it over. "Homework?"

Hermione beamed.

After a few hours work Harry couldn't stand it anymore. Whatever Hermione had left unsaid earlier was starting to drive him crazy, but somehow he didn't dare ask her. A horrible suspicion was beginning to fester in his mind. As subtly as he could, he excused himself from the group and made his way to the library.

He found the muggle dictionary exactly where he had shelved it a week ago. It didn't take long to find what he was looking for.

As an adjective "either" could mean one or the other, or one _and_ the other. "There are books on _either_ side of the shelf." Well that was just jolly. Harry had spent all his time worrying that he would have to be a murderer or the murdered. It hadn't occurred to him that he could end up being both. The most the prophecy seemed to be specific about was that at least one of them had to die at the hand of the other, but it didn't seem to preclude them killing each other simultaneously. But that was just as an adjective, maybe here "either" was a conjunction, or a pronoun. Harry had never before wished that grammar had been included in his studies at Hogwarts, but right now it seemed like a monumental oversight.

"I thought I might find you here." Hermione was standing in the door. She looked a little sad and like she knew exactly what he was thinking.

Harry gestured at the book in his hands. "It could be both of us."

"But it doesn't have to be." Hermione walked forward.

Ron came in right behind her. "What are we talking about?"

Hermione glanced at him nervously. "The prophecy isn't as specific as you think."

"I'd thought I had it figured out," Harry mused. "When Voldemort came back he used my blood and he said that my mother's sacrifice would no longer protect me from him. When I told Dumbledore about the ritual he looked almost happy. It didn't make any sense so I thought I must have imagined it. But then when he told me the prophecy I realized maybe I'm the one who has to kill him because of the blood. Maybe I'm the only one who can get around whatever precautions he took so that no one else could kill him."

"But now this," Harry lifted the dictionary in his hand. "Maybe what the prophecy means, with the blood connection, maybe we both have to die."

"Harry," Hermione pleaded, "you need to talk to Dumbledore."

"If he knows and felt inclined to tell me, don't you think he would have already?" Harry practically spat.

"No I don't," Hermione assured. "You told us yourself you were already wrecking his office. Considering everything you had been through that night, your state of mind and how much he was already putting on you with the prophecy, no I don't think it would have been appropriate to also throw in 'oh and by the way you have to die.' It would have been too much for anyone to take all at once."

"And now you think it's different?"

Hermione took a cautious step towards him. "Maybe, if you go to him and explain everything as you just did to us, and he sees how much you have figured out on your own already and that you are genuinely ready for the answer, yes I think he might be honest with you."

Just then Ginny stuck her head in the door. Her bright smile turned to one of apology when she realized she had obviously walked in on something important. "Sorry, Mum said to come downstairs for dinner."

Watching Ginny quickly make her exit Harry felt a painful lump suddenly build in his throat. "I don't want to know."

"Harry?"

Getting out of bed was hard enough already, he didn't know how he'd manage even that if he was destined to die before he even finished growing up. And worse, secretly, he knew he'd want to run; to hell with everyone else. "I don't. If there is some clock counting down how much time I have left I don't want to know that."

Ron, almost forgotten, suddenly spoke up. "Are we telling anyone else then?"

"No," Harry said firmly. "And Ginny doesn't find out this last bit either."

"Are you crazy?" Ron asked. "You told her before you told us. She's going to be pretty hacked off if you leave her out again."

"Doesn't much matter how hacked off she is if I'm dead," Harry grumbled perhaps a little too animatedly.

Ron looked wary, "That's what you think."

Harry's friendship with Ron and Hermione was different; they had shared everything since the beginning. Their relationship had practically been founded on life or death situations. But lately, the conversations Harry had with Ginny were the closest he had felt to normal in a long time. He wouldn't be able to stand it if the shadow of his impending death started to lurk in her eyes."It's not open for discussion. Ginny doesn't know."

Hermione looked towards the door and then back to Harry with an air of deep suspicion. "Alright Harry." Thinking the conversation was over Harry started toward the exit, but Hermione continued. "You know, I think it's the last part that is most interesting though. According to the prophecy 'neither can_ live_ while the other survives.'"

"So?"

"Well," Hermione continued, "I suppose you have both been technically alive this whole time, but maybe to fulfill the requirements of the prophecy neither of you have really lived because the other had still managed to survive. Voldemort subsisted without a body for more than a decade, but that can hardly be called living. And you survived his attack, but suffered an oppressive childhood, constant battles against people who want to kill you, now a war, not to mention the trials and tribulations of unwanted celebrity. Maybe what the prophecy actually means is you finally get to truly live your life after he's dead."

Suddenly Harry's entire body felt light. "Freedom."

Hermione practically glowed, "Sounds good doesn't it?"


	3. Chapter Three

**Author's Note:** So I got my first official flame. At least I think I did, I am having a somewhat hard time deciding. I was about to go into an explanation of why, but I've covered it in my response. And the reason I am posting this here is to apologise to anyone who is uncomfortable with my using review space to make said response. But I just couldn't leave it alone without saying anything.

That said, I actually feel it is much more important to thank all the people who have taken the time to leave kind reviews. I will respond to you directly, I just haven't exactly figured out how to do that yet. Every time I try my computer gets all slow and weird, but I will figure it out, I promise. In the meantime, thank you very much. All the encouragement has been greatly savoured.

At the same time I don't mean to imply I am only open to glowing reviews. Honest constructive criticism is totally welcome and appreciated. I just don't get why this person had to be so unduly harsh. It was a bit of a blow, but maybe I am just a wimp. I don't get why he felt the need to take time out his life to tell me he wasn't even going to bother opening my story, when he just could have moved on to the next in line.

Okay, off my chest. On to the story!

**Additional Note: New text added on March 21, 2005**

**Bewitched and Bewildered - Chapter Three**

Harry was once again disappointed in his trip on the Hogwarts Express.

He had been happy enough on the way to the train station, but then Ron and Hermione had beaten a hasty departure. If he had thought about it, he would have known it was coming. But he hadn't thought. He had totally forgotten. And when the pair made their apologies and headed to the prefect carriage Harry was left with a sinking feeling of deja vu.

To say that he had hated the previous year would be an egregious understatement. From start to finish the whole thing had been bad. Okay, there had been a few alright moments. Kissing, obviously, had been quite nice, but even that was dimmed by the severe emotional awkwardness he had almost always felt with Cho. It was of upmost importance that this year be much, much better. Even if Voldemort was still plotting to kill him. And the repeat disappearance of his two best friends right in the opening moments sat uneasily in his stomach.

Ginny was with him, that was good. It was true that they had sat together the year before, but this was the one thing he was happy remained the same.

Ginny had somehow also eluded the honour of being named a prefect. Though the snub seemed to roll off her much more easily than it had Harry the previous summer. When he asked her about it she had shrugged and said that chasing people around making sure they followed the rules didn't really appeal to her anyway. Harry suspected part of her acceptance may have had something to do with the party Fred and George had thrown the day she had not received a badge.

Harry was amazed at the bravery of the twins. They had brought a cake and even erected a "Congratulations Ginny!" banner. Mrs. Weasley had been obviously furious at their antics, but it seemed she held her temper and allowed the festivities to continue in an effort not to hurt the feelings of her only daughter. Harry figured it was probably a good thing Fred and George no longer lived at home and were thus safe from a telling off that would have happened later that night otherwise.

After Ron and Hermione had left them on the train, Harry was quite pleased when he and Ginny had found a place to sit by themselves. For about two minutes. He didn't seem to be holding her attention. In fact she appeared quite distracted and kept staring out the door of their compartment. It didn't take him long to remember that she was looking forward to seeing a sixteen-year-old boy that wasn't him. The disappointment that set in was profound.

Harry knew though, despite all the little details, the absence of Ron and Hermione, Ginny's apparent interest in the hallway, the true source of his mood was actually due to an incident the night before.

Remus Lupin had come to Grimmauld Place to speak to him.

Harry had managed to avoid his old professor the entire summer. He wasn't sure why exactly, but Harry felt very strongly about not talking to Lupin. It wasn't that he was angry with him. It was just that somehow, any further relationship between the two of them seemed like a very bad idea. Any time Harry had seen Lupin around the house he had been overcome with such anxiety that it made him feel sick.

Then last night Lupin had appeared and insisted on a meeting with him, alone in the kitchen. Having his prerogative overruled had at once put Harry in a disagreeable mood. Then when he discovered the topic of discussion his ire rose even further.

Lupin sat before him somewhat nervously fidgeting with some papers. "It is an old will, from before... From before Sirius' incarceration." He glanced at Harry and then returned his focus to the documents before him. "There are three bequests dividing the estate between your parents, Peter and I. Peter's portion is a bit of a quandary. Since he is legally dead with no heirs it should revert back to the estate to be divided among the remaining beneficiaries. In the event of your parent's death their portion is to be given to their son." He looked up and gave a small smile. "You."

Harry didn't have anything to say. "Oh."

"The inheritance will be transferred to your bank vault at Gringotts."

"Good."

There was a pause before Lupin carried on earnestly, trying to make Harry understand the magnitude of what was happening. "The house is no longer part of the estate as Sirius made a gift of it to the order last year, but Harry, this is a very large legacy, which has been left to you."

His voice still cool, Harry answered, "Thanks."

Lupin folded his hands and tried to cautiously soldier on. "I realize this is too early to be thinking of now, but perhaps in a bit of time we maybe should talk, about appropriate investments and other issues."

Harry didn't respond.

Lupin rose from the table and moved over to the fire. He stared into it for a moment before he spoke again. "Last year Sirius asked me to look out for you if anything should happen to him."

Harry wasn't moved. "He thought about who would take care of me in case he died, but he didn't bother to make a new will?"

Lupin turned and smiled wryly. "I think it was the spirit of the matter that was always more important to him than the legal monetary details."

When it was clear Harry wasn't going to reply Lupin moved towards him again, his posture bent slightly forward as he made his appeal. "I realize you have come to me in the past for advice, but somehow things seem a bit awkward now. It is important to me to keep my promise to Sirius. I was thinking my helping you with this might be a good way to start."

Harry was incredulous. "You want to get passed the awkwardness between us by helping me decide how to spend the money I inherited from my godfather's death?"

Lupin tried for a small lopsided smile. "Perhaps not the best choice."

Harry decided to end the conversation. "I think I would rather talk to Mr. Weasley." This was a lie. The last person Harry would want to discuss his new inheritance with would be any member of the Weasley family.

Accepting defeat Lupin answered, "As you wish Harry."

Now, a day later, as he was left with his own thoughts watching scenery pass by, Harry was feeling very nettled by the memory. Guilty. On some level he understood that Remus had been trying to reach out to him. And he also realized that his own actions had served as a rejection. But it really just seemed like it was all for the best.

Eventually Ron and Hermione returned, bickering quietly as they walked in the door. Something about Ron antagonizing Malfoy. "Honestly Ron," Hermione said with exasperation, "I am just as unhappy as you are about him still being a prefect, but do you really need to bait him in the first two minutes?"

"What?" Ron asked innocently. "I just asked him if his dad would be able to order the team new brooms again this year. I reckon it might be hard to arrange such a thing from Azkaban. What could possibly be wrong with that?"

Hermione glared at him. "I had to listen to about thirty more minutes of pompous garbage from that berk than usual to start."

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed.

"What?"

"You said berk." Ron appeared stunned.

"Well, he is," she said as plunked herself down in her seat.

Ron sat down beside her, looking at her as though he had never been more proud.

The next couple of hours seemed almost like old times. They ordered a wide selection of food from the trolley. Hermione and Ginny read newspapers and magazines. And Ron beat Harry at chess. Harry was almost beginning to feel himself slip sideways into being content. Until a group of Gryffindore boys happened to pass by their compartment window.

Harry could tell that Ginny waiting an appropriate amount of time before she nonchalantly rose from her seat. "Well," she said a bit too casually, "I'm off for a few minutes then." Before she opened the door she ran her fingers through her hair a few times and surreptitiously attempted to check her breath.

After watching his sister's odd departure Ron asked, "What's up with her?"

"She's going to flirt with Dean," Harry grumbled. Then a wicked idea popped in his head. "Maybe you should go stop her."

"Not likely," Ron moaned, "I don't need to see that."

Harry slouched in his seat and felt himself sliding into a serious grump. The fact that he was clearly jealous of a boy Ginny hadn't even decided if she had a crush on yet was deeply troubling. Though not nearly as troubling as the frighteningly perceptive stare he was receiving from Hermione right at that moment. "What?" he demanded.

Hermione eyebrows raised and she shook her head innocently. "Nothing Harry. Nothing at all." Then she smirked and popped an every flavoured bean in her mouth.

If the first of September wasn't everything that Harry had hoped for, the second did a decidedly better job of putting the year back on track. McGonagall asked for Harry and Ron to stay after their first Transfiguration class. Knowing that there was no way both of them could have gotten into trouble already, Harry hoped he knew what the meeting was about.

"Quidditch," McGonagall announced as the two boys stood before her desk. Then she allowed a slight smile. "Potter, I am happy to announce that with that horrible woman gone from our school, Professor Dumbledore and I both agree that you should be reinstated to the team immediately."

Harry had dared to hope a little, but actually hearing the words from the woman in charge made him feel like... Well it made him feel like hugging her honestly. Somehow he managed to restrain himself, offering a heartfelt, "Thank you Professor," instead.

"I do think I should caution you," she said, her voice taking on a very serious tone. "Though the punishment last year was unduly harsh, even ridiculous, it would be best for all concerned if you avoided any further incidents of violence while on the pitch. I don't want anyone, anywhere, to have any reason to question our faith in your ability to control your temper and behave with some propriety. Do I make myself clear?"

Abundantly. There was no mistaking the frighteningly stern gaze she fixed him with from over her glasses. "Yes Professor," Harry assured. "I won't let you down."

"Good," she nodded. "That settled, now we have the small matter of assigning the role of Captain."

Ron spoke first, "I thought that Katie..."

"I offered the position to Miss Bell, but she declined." A flicker of amusement passed behind McGonagall's eyes. "Something about preferring to enjoy her last year on the field rather than turning into a crazed lunatic. Which leaves me with the two of you."

Her penetrating gaze appraised them both. "Potter has seniority and I cannot overlook the fact that you were the youngest player on a Hogwarts team in a century. You are one of the best flyers I have ever seen. However, unfortunately, you were off the field, off your broom entirely, for almost a full year. Mr. Weasley, on the other hand, though giving a somewhat dismal performance in the beginning has shown marked improvement. And I cannot forget that you managed to beat my chess set when you had only just turned twelve. An accomplishment which seems to imply you may be something of a rather cunning strategist."

Harry was stunned. He wanted it, but he didn't want to be in competition with his friend. A flicker of an old memory slipped through his brain. Here was Ron, standing on the precipice of finally having almost everything he had ever wanted. "Professor, if you don't mind," he said before he lost his nerve, "Ron should have it."

"Are you insane?" Ron exclaimed beside him. "No way Harry. You deserve this. Even I can admit that."

"Ron, don't be daft," Harry said tersely. "I can barely keep track of the rest of the game while I'm off looking for the snitch. As keeper you have a much better idea of how everyone else is playing."

Ron seemed to consider. "Well, you do have a point there." He turned to McGonagall. "Is there any way... I mean could we both do it? As Co-Captains?"

"It is unusual, but the two of you have certainly proven in the past a rather remarkable ability to work together." She graced them with one of her rare warm smiles. "I think that would be fine."

The return to the common room felt like a momentous occasion. Ron kept up a constant monologue of possible strategies and formations. He had clearly been thinking about this day for a long time. Harry kept mostly silent. He couldn't stop smiling and he really just wanted to enjoy the hour. It had been so long since he had felt this good. He was a little afraid that if he spoke, interrupted Ron's stream of consciousness, other realities might find a way to slink into his momentary bliss.

When they made their announcement to Hermione and Ginny the two girls leapt from their chairs and gave them both congratulatory hugs. Harry felt a little alarmed and awkward at how good it felt to have Ginny in his arms for that fleeting second. He ran his hands through his hair nervously and attempted to cover, "Well, it's good news for all three of us really. You'll be our new Chaser obviously."

Ginny looked stunned. "What?"

Harry grinned at her. "You said you wanted to be Chaser last year didn't you?"

"I did," she stuttered, "but Harry..."

Ron interrupted, "Harry we really ought to have tryouts. No offense Gin," he continued gingerly. "I'm sure you'll make it. But we need to tryout the other Chaser position anyway. And well, it would be proper."

"No, it's okay Ron," Ginny assured her brother. "I expected to have to tryout. Thanks Harry, but I think Ron is right. Besides," she added a bit cheekily, "I wouldn't want anyone thinking I got the spot just because my brother is Captain."

Ron turned a bit pink. Then he suddenly exclaimed, "I need Pig! We have to owl Mum and Dad!"

"I think he's in the Owlery," Ginny offered. "And I want to come with you."

After the two siblings happily stumbled through the portrait hole, Hermione reclaimed her seat by the fire and fixed Harry with a curious stare. "Are you ever going to tell her?"

"What?" Harry sat down in the seat beside her.

"Are you ever going to tell Ginny you like her?" she asked like it was a perfectly normal thing to say.

Harry grimaced. He hadn't totally accepted the idea himself yet. He hadn't even considered actually telling her. "Is it that obvious?"

Hermione shrugged. "Probably just to me."

"I don't know," Harry frowned, suddenly feeling horribly self-conscious. "Ginny told me you can always tell when someone likes you."

"Usually I'd say she's right," Hermione agreed. "But when you've been rejected enough times by a person it would be hard to believe that he has actually decided to notice you."

Harry hadn't missed the irony of the situation. But what he really felt was more important was, "Did you know she's engaged in a highly organized campaign to seduce Dean?"

"Yes," Hermione grinned. "She's in the middle of phase one: charm and obfuscate."

"It must be nice, to get that sort of attention," Harry grumbled.

"Only from Ginny you mean," Hermione said. "Since you hate attention from anyone else." Harry glared at her. "And Harry, she gave you that kind of attention for years and you didn't want it."

"Hermione," Harry objected, "I was twelve and it was embarrassing."

"Twelve through Fourteen," Hermione corrected. "And if you want it back you should talk to her. And make it good by the way."

Harry found that comment rather alarming despite the offhand way she had added it. "Wait, why do I have to make it good?"

Hermione suddenly looked sympathetic. "She carried a torch for you for a long time. And I think she has felt extremely liberated being free of it. I'm not entirely sure she'll want to pick it up again."

This was definitely not good news. "I was that horrible?"

"No Harry," Hermione said supportively. "You were always very polite and kind to her and did your best to a make sure she didn't feel any more embarrassed than she already did. But Harry, she didn't exactly make her feelings a secret and yet you never even considered her. You were desperate to find someone to go to the ball with and it didn't even cross your mind that she was an option. It hurt her. I should know. It might help if you grovel a bit. Tell her how stupid you are, that sort of thing."

Suddenly Harry was finding himself becoming quite defensive. "You know it isn't my fault that I didn't like her before. She wouldn't even talk to me! She ran away and slammed doors in my face. How was I supposed to like her when I didn't even have a chance to know her?" Hermione tried to interrupt by calling his name, but he was in full rant mode. "I like her now! A lot. It isn't bloody fair that I should be punished for something that happened when I was twelve. I was barely even noticing girls at all back then for crying out loud."

Hermione was looking at him with a calm glare. "Are you finished?"

Harry thought about it. "I guess." For the moment.

"Stop being so melodramatic," Hermione sighed. "You are not being punished. I am just saying that what Ginny remembers is that you didn't want her. She doesn't necessarily understand all the sensible reasons why you never had a chance to like her. We are talking about emotions, not logic. And she felt that you rejected her, that you were never going to change your mind." She smiled at him sympathetically. "Believe me Harry, I was there, I understand why you didn't like her then, but I'm not the one who worked so hard to get over you. There is a fair amount of emotional baggage between the two of you and if you want to win her now, you might have to work for it."

Harry was starting to think the whole thing was a lost cause. "This is very encouraging. Maybe I shouldn't even bother."

"No," Hermione admonished. "You definitely should bother. And as soon as possible."

"Why? Since you seem to think it's so hopeless," he grumbled.

"Well," Hermione said thoughtfully, "for one thing I think the role reversal will be very good for you. More importantly, I think she's perfect for you. Exactly what you need."

There was another doubt, which had been lingering in the back of his mind. Now that Hermione knew of his feelings, maybe he could talk about it. "Do you suppose maybe I shouldn't tell her."

As though it was ridiculous Hermione laughed, "No."

"Because it might endanger her I mean," Harry said quietly. "If we became involved."

Hermione immediately sobered. She seemed to think about it for a moment. When she started to speak it was obvious she was choosing her words with care. "I know, considering everything that has happened, it must be hard for you sometimes to understand, but not everything is about you Harry."

Harry was incredulous. "Are you kidding? Sirius died because of me. My parents died because of me."

"They all died to save you," she agreed. "That's true. But there is never going to be anything you can do to stop that. Including hiding your feelings for Ginny." Hermione took a deep breath. "Look the point that I am trying to make is that although your parents and Sirius died to save you, they were already in danger because of other choices they had made. Because they were in the Order. It is the same with all the Weasley's, they are in danger not because of their relationship to you, but because they have joined Dumbledore. Ginny was targeted in her first year because of who her father was, not because of her crush."

This was rich, considering the argument they had before going to the Ministry last spring. "You said yourself that Riddle took her down to the Chamber to lure me in."

"And that's true," Hermione said unabashed. "He used her knowing you would follow, so he could have a chance to fight you alone. But he was already possessing her. He was probably always intending to use her life force to regain his form, ultimately killing her. Luring you into the Chamber was just a slightly different strategy. And Harry, you are arguing against yourself. That happened before you decided you liked her romantically, which just proves my point. She is already vulnerable. I really don't see how dating you could possibly make it any worse."

Harry thought about everything she had said. "So I guess you're saying it doesn't matter."

"Isn't that the answer you wanted?"

"Yeah." Harry fidgeted in his chair. "I just want to be sure. If I am going to die I want to actually live my life a bit first you know? But I would never forgive myself if something happened to her because of me. Because I was selfish."

Hermione shrugged. "But something could happen anyway. And then you would never forgive yourself for not being with her when you had the chance."

It sounded fatalistic, but Harry knew it was true. He was starting to understand that no life at all was definitely not an option.

**Author's note:** Just a preemptive bit here. Don't worry, Lupin will appear again and this will be all worked out.

And next chapter - that thing with Dean.


	4. Chapter Four

**Author's Note:** Thank you for all the supportive reviews after my whining in the author's note last chapter. The last few days have been awesome. I was working away at chapter six while all that feedback was coming in, and personally, I think that chapter is a lot funnier than it would have been as a result.

**Chapter Four**

Harry hadn't told Ginny he liked her. Hadn't made anything at all that could be considered a move in even the very loosest of terms.

He was very busy!

First there were Quidditch tryouts. And Ginny did make the team just as Harry had known she would. Then there were practices. Not to mention the hours that he and Ron spent conspiring together over drills and special moves and even a few low-key intimidation tactics, reserved for one team in particular of course. He had started his Occlumency lessons with Dumbledore and there was regular homework. And the D.A. had even resumed and he had lessons of his own to plan.

Yes indeed, very, very busy. Certainly no time to waste thinking about how much his insides ached whenever Ginny sat quietly beside him. Or what a wonderful friend she had turned into and how amazing it would be if she could be more. Or what red hair looked like when it caught the firelight. Or what she might taste like. Or how happy he might feel if ... if... No. No time for thoughts like that.

If he had a spare moment at all, it was only to remind himself what an obvious idiot he had been. Because it was just never going to happen. She was so over him. Or at least it certainly seemed that way every time she made some teasing remark to Dean and then tossed her hair and sauntered from the room. And it really seemed that way when Dean's eyes would slightly bludge and he would clear his throat and quickly change the topic to football.

And so time passed and Harry remained in his emotionally uncomplicated and risk free, if perhaps somewhat less than satisfying, status quo.

It was the middle of October when Dean finally decided to talk to Ron. The boys dorm had been blissfully free from any mention of Ginny and Harry had attributed that fact to the happy advantage of sharing the room with her older brother. He had been at least partly wrong.

One night as Harry and Ron were getting ready for bed Dean found them alone. He made a slight coughing noise from the door. "Ron, mate, I was wondering if I could have a minute."

Ron gave Dean a rather dubious look. "Why?"

Dean entered the room looking even more nervous. "Well, it's about your sister."

This was it, Dean was about to ask Ron's permission to date Ginny. Or worse, he was breaking the news that they were already together and ecstatically happy. Harry had missed his chance.

"It's just," he began awkwardly. "It seems, well, I think she might have gotten the wrong idea about me. Or about her and me more specifically. And I was wondering if maybe you could set her straight for me."

Ron held up his hand. "Hold on a second. You're asking me to dump my sister for you."

"Not dump," Dean hastened to clarify. "We were never together. But let her know, you know, gently, that I'm not interested."

Ron's face was starting to colour dangerously. "My sister isn't good enough for you?"

Harry thought Ron was rather missing the point: Ginny was still single. News which should make Harry and Ron equally happy. Though for different reasons obviously.

"Ginny's great." A bit of a distant look came over Dean's face as he said, "Lately it seems like Ginny might be amazing." Just as Harry was directing furious thoughts of ill will in Dean's direction the boy seemed to come back to himself as he said, "But I sort of started seeing Susan over the summer, we just haven't been really public about it yet. And the thing is she's started to notice Ginny's, well, extra attention toward me and she's getting a little sensitive about it. I was just hoping you could, you know, talk to Ginny."

Ron snorted, "Don't you think you ought to be the one to talk to her?"

Dean looked horrified at the very idea. "I don't want to hurt her feelings. I thought it might be easier coming from you."

There was a pause as Ron considered, then he slowly sank to his bed, looking a little defeated. "Alright, I guess."

"It's weird," Dean said seemingly confused by the whole situation. "Last year I kind of liked Ginny, but she was with Michael. Now I really like Susan and I just don't want anything to mess that up."

The next night as they were finishing dinner in the Great Hall Ron asked Ginny if she would join him for a walk. She looked very confused, but Ron said it was private stuff and she agreed. Ron looked a bit like he was walking to his death as he took her hand and led her from the table.

When Harry got back to the common room he couldn't stop himself from moving over to the windows to see if he could spot them. After a minute's search he found the pair and watched the scene. He knew he probably shouldn't, but he couldn't help it.

Harry knew the instant Ron had delivered the news. Ginny stood frozen for a moment, then she suddenly started storming around. Harry thought he faintly heard the words "cowardly git" on the breeze, but knew that had to be impossible given the distance. She flew at Ron and started poking him in the chest. Then after a few minutes of what was obviously an amazing rant she stopped and collapsed against her brother.

It was strange, earlier he had felt almost like hugging Dean, now he wanted nothing more than to punch him in the face.

Hermione joined him at the window. "How's it going?" she asked quietly.

"Not very good I think," Harry muttered.

"Do you mind if I borrow your cloak?" she asked. "I was thinking I might take her down to the kitchens when they get back. Get some pudding."

Harry went to the dorm to retrieve the shimmering garment for her. While he was there, he picked up his and Ron's chess sets. He had a feeling Ron would need a game when he got back.

A few minutes later Harry only caught a brief glimpse of Ginny at the portrait hole before Hermione rushed forward and whisked her away again. He couldn't help but notice the marked difference between the confident girl who had delightedly hinted at her plans for Dean that summer and the stunned, slightly lost look she had about her at that moment. Rejection, he decided instantly, was much, much worse than a blast ended skrewt. Possibly worse than a basilisk.

Ron's body practically fell like dead weight into a chair. "That," he gestured widely, "was awful."

Harry tried to act as though he hadn't been spying. "She didn't take it well?"

Ron rubbed his face in frustration. "First she was embarrassed. Something about how Dean and everyone else must think she's some sort of joke or something. I told her that wasn't true," he said earnestly. "That Dean seemed to feel badly about the whole thing. Then she got really angry. Going on about how she's tired of everyone in our year treating her like she's just a baby because she's the youngest in our family. I said I didn't think that was it and she said well obviously Dean didn't seem to think she was important enough to talk to her himself, doesn't deem her worthy enough of even that much respect. I tried to distract her. I said maybe he was just afraid she might hex him or something, since she has a bit of a reputation. And she said so what? Dean didn't think she would hex her own brother? And I said well yeah. And she said maybe she should hex me just to fix him." Ron huffed a huge sigh. "Fortunately though, that's when she just started crying."

Harry felt awful.

Ron shook his head. "I've never seen her so worked up. Not about some boy anyway. She wasn't even this upset about ditching that git Corner and they were supposed to be going out for a year."

"I think maybe we're all a little worked up," Harry suggested. "With everything else that's going on, it feels like the stakes are higher."

"Yeah, I suppose."

"Who knows," Harry tried to lighten the mood, "if Voldemort hadn't come back maybe Hermione would have waited another year for you to pull your own head out of your arse before she jumped you."

Ron's ears tinged a bit. "Yeah."

Ron leaned forward as though he was sharing a secret. "I understand why Ginny is mad at Dean for not telling her himself. I even agree with her. But can you even imagine having to break up with a girl for real? Thank goodness I ended up with Hermione first, that's all I have to say."

"Why?"

Ron snorted. "Well it's not like I'm going to be breaking up with her is it?"

"No, I guess not," Harry agreed. "In case I didn't tell you before, I am really happy for you two."

"Thanks." Seeming as though the conversation was over Ron moved forward in his chair and started setting up the chess pieces. "Still though, Ginny needs someone to make her happy."

Not sure where this was going Harry decided to answer with a safe "Hmm."

"And I know she would make someone really happy too," Ron continued casually. "Provided it was the right bloke and all. I mean she is my sister. She needs someone, you know, special."

The next day at breakfast Ginny looked awful. Well, not exactly. It was weird, in some ways she looked great. It was obvious she had spent a fair amount of time on her hair and her robes were freshly pressed and she was even wearing the makeup she sometimes did that always made her eyes and lips seem exceptionally pretty. But she still looked horrid. Despite the huge smile she plastered to her face she seemed tired, and glum, and just a bit puffy. She simply wasn't herself, at all, and Harry hated it.

At the same time though the rest of his emotions were completely muddled. He was still torn between the equally strong desires to punch Dean in the face or give him an enormous back slapping hug. Ginny was obviously hurting and Dean had done that to her. And that was wrong. No one should ever be allowed to hurt Ginny. At the same time Harry couldn't completely ignore the fact that Dean had done him a huge favour. Dean's shortsightedness meant that Harry might not have to suffer for his own. He had a second chance and for that he was eternally grateful.

Harry pushed his eggs around his plate, wishing he could find a way to cheer Ginny up so he could stop feeling so rotten for being happy.

As Ginny excused herself from the table Harry had an epiphany. It was so easy. He just had to make her understand the truth of the situation. Without putting himself out on the line just yet obviously. Dean was the loser here and Harry was filled with the sudden need to make sure Ginny knew that in no uncertain terms.

Harry said a quick goodbye to Ron and Hermione and trotted after Ginny, trying not to be too obvious that he was essentially running from the room. He caught up to her in the Entrance Hall and managed to tug on her elbow making her turn.

She didn't look particularly pleased to see him. "Oh, hi Harry."

What had seemed so easy moments before became extremely difficult now that he realized he needed actual words. He should have thought of that. "Virginia, I just wanted to say, you know, that Dean's an idiot."

She glared at him, surprisingly bitter. "An idiot after your own heart then?"

Harry gaped at her. He had absolutely no response to that.

She looked down at her shoes, honestly chagrined. "I'm sorry Harry. I shouldn't have..." A huge huff escaped her. "I'm not in the best of moods to deal with boys, any boys, right now."

Harry tried for a joke. "Well I'm sorry then, for being a boy I guess."

Ginny didn't smile. "I need to get to Potions. I'll see you later." And she was gone.


	5. Chapter Five

**Author Notes: **Just a quick note on the Ginevra / Virginia thing - I know Ginny's real name, Harry doesn't. As for why he keeps using her full name- I guess I just have a weakness for a couple using names that are more special somehow and that is what Harry is going for. I have a name commonly shortened - and EVERYONE calls me by the shortened version, EXCEPT a few boyfriends I have had and I always really liked that. And Harry will find out eventually. As for why Ginny isn't correcting him - she will explain, and I just gave a very big clue. I can accept the fact that this all may seem a bit artificial - but the line where Harry finds out is the first line of dialogue I wrote for the story, so I am kind of married to it. Also, it is really a homage to the fact that the fandom didn't know Ginny's true name until last summer when Rowling revealed it on her website. A wealth of fiction was written assuming her name was Virginia, before we found out it was really something far more unique and beautiful.

**Bewitched and Bewildered - Chapter Five**

Ever since Ginny had brushed him off that morning, Harry had spent the rest of his day in utter turmoil.

He was still extremely happy with how the whole Dean thing had turned out. He had been granted a second chance and he knew he had to take it. Now. Before Ginny decided to choose someone else. The problem was he had absolutely no idea what to do. And the very idea of doing anything had him virtually immobilised with fear. Asking out Cho had been frightening enough, and he didn't even have to see her everyday if he didn't want to. This was Ginny. He lived in the same house as Ginny. He played Quidditch several times a week with Ginny. He was best friends with her brother, business partner to the twins and practically an honourary son to her parents. He was friends with Ginny.

At the same time, he was still muddled over the fact that the turn of events that were filling him with such relief, were causing her pain. Worst of all, apparently some of that pain was being directed towards him. And despite the fact he wanted to tell himself he had no idea why, the truth was he had a vague idea. Though she had apologised for snapping at him and he was fairly certain she wouldn't have bothered if she didn't mean it.

Harry really wished he could just have a chance to chat with her as they did normally, so he could have some clue as to where they stood. That opportunity was what he was looking forward to when he went to the Great Hall for supper.

Problem was, Ginny never showed.

Not asking about her nearly drove him mad. Fortunately, when it started to get late, Ron actually took the time to question one of the other girls from Ginny's year. It was strange, Harry thought, a couple of years ago, Ron probably wouldn't have even noticed her absence. Now she was a part of the group.

In response to Ron's inquiry, the girl said, "Ohh, she um, had a bit of an incident in Potions this morning."

"An incident?"

The girl looked a bit nervous. "I don't think she was paying as close attention as she usually does. She stirred counter-clockwise instead of clockwise and the whole thing exploded in her face. She's been in the hospital wing ever since."

"Huh," Ron said after he returned to his pudding. "I suppose I ought to go check on her."

Hermione glared at him from over her book. "You suppose?"

Harry and Hermione went back to the common room to start on homework while Ron went to make his visit. When Ron joined them half an hour later he brought the news that Ginny was covered from head to toe in rather painful looking blisters.

"Madam Pomfrey said they wouldn't be permanent," Ron explained, "but she'll probably be in there for a day or two until they go away. I think she's feeling a little self-conscious. She kept looking at herself in a hand mirror and moaning."

"Hmmm," Hermione said thoughtfully, "someone ought to do something to cheer her up."

Harry had never been so happy for prefect rounds in his entire life. After a few minutes of staring into the fire, he had come up with the most excellent plan. A couple of hours with his Charms textbook and he was ready. It was perfect. Something to cheer her up and would also give him a chance to let her know at least a little of what he was feeling. Best of all, he hoped it would be sort of funny. He was a genius, really.

Still with an hour to go before curfew he made his way to the hospital wing. When he walked in Ginny was poking at her face while looking in the mirror Ron had mentioned. "You know," he kidded, "you're probably not supposed to scratch. We're not going to have to get you gloves are we?"

Embarrassed at having been caught, Ginny slammed the mirror down with an exaggerated groan.

Then she gave him an adorable mock frown. "They're really bad aren't they?"

Harry shrugged. "I've seen worse. You never did get to see Hermione during her week of being a cat person." He tried to swallow down how nervous he was feeling. It was now or never. Or possibly now or next week. No, no, he had come this far. "I ah, I brought this for you."

Ginny took the card from him curiously. "What is this?"

Harry beamed. He was brilliant. "It's a singing get well card."

Ginny opened it and was immediately blasted in the face by a screeching noise that could only be considered singing in the very loosest terms. "It's a bit off key."

Harry's smile became impossibly larger. "I know. Here," he grabbed the card from her and placed it under an enormous fruit bowl he assumed came from her family, "it's the only way to keep them quiet."

Ginny gazed at the now muffled card dubiously. "Are you making fun of me?"

Harry's mouth dropped. "No!" When Ginny finally met his eyes she looked almost hurt. "No. You gave one to me after I fell during Quidditch and I figured it must have been embarrassing for you, so I thought... I just wanted to show..."

"I wasn't embarrassed," she said flatly.

"What?"

"I wasn't embarrassed by the card I gave you," she repeated.

Harry was stunned. "You weren't?"

Ginny looked down into her hands. "I was proud of it. It's a rather complicated charm. Though not for a sixth year I suppose. George sat with me for three hours teaching me how to get it right."

All of this was shocking news to say the least. Especially the part about Ginny going to one of her brothers for help. From what Harry had seen they had been a little merciless about her crush. "George helped you? And he didn't, didn't tease you?"

"I think it was my one free pass owing to you saving my life the year before. That and both he and Fred were nearly sick after watching you hurtle to the ground."

This wasn't going well. Ginny seemed almost angry. In all the years he had known her Ginny had never mentioned him saving her life, except for that one conversation the past summer, and that had the air of a special allowance. Here she was almost hurling it like a weapon. "Oh." It was all he could manage.

Ginny looked back at the muffled card and sniffed, "Did you put my card under a fruit bowl?"

Harry took his time on his way back to the common room. Of all the reactions he had imagined, this wasn't anywhere close.

He sat in front of the fire and tried to concentrate on an essay, but really, he mostly just sulked. When Ron and Hermione returned from rounds he used all his powers of concentration to try to freeze Hermione to her chair. He desperately needed to talk to her. Finally, mercifully, Ron headed off to bed.

Harry leaned forward in his chair. "I went to visit Ginny."

Hermione gave him a broad smile. "So how did it go?"

"Awful." He flopped backwards. "I gave her a singing get well card like the one she gave me once and she thinks I'm making fun of her. Apparently I've insulted her twelve-year-old self."

"Oh," Hermione said wrinkling her nose. "Well that's not good."

Harry pointed madly towards the boys' dorm. "You know I still have that card in my trunk and it is excessively loud. I'm not wrong about this."

Hermione's eyes went wide. "You kept the card?"

"Yes."

"Do you keep all the cards you get?" she asked innocently.

"Are you mad?" Harry exclaimed. "Of course not."

"So why did you keep the one from Ginny?" Hermione asked, sounding as though she were his therapist.

Harry shrugged. "Just didn't feel right throwing it away. I have all the letters from you and Ron too you know. It's not a big deal."

"It is a big deal Harry. You should have shown her that instead." For a moment her eyes went disturbingly dreamy. "That would have been romantic."

Harry had no choice. He had to go back and see Ginny that night. He couldn't leave it alone.

He donned his invisibility cloak and made his way slowly though the halls. When he reached her bed he stayed under the cloak for a minute, watching her. She was holding the card. She opened it for a moment letting it sing its horrible tune and then frowning, slammed it back under the fruit bowl. Harry waited a full minute before revealing himself, so as not to let on that he had seen.

When he pulled off the cloak Ginny nearly leapt off her bed. "Blimey Harry! Are you trying to scare me to death?" she asked taking a deep breath.

"Sorry about that Gin, but I had to talk to you..."

"Look, I've been thinking," Ginny cut him off, sounding highly agitated. "I might be overreacting because I feel deeply ugly right now and I am insecure enough at the moment, but I just don't think I can take being teased about the fact that you never liked me. I realize we're friends, and maybe it is something we should be able to joke about, but I just can't. Not yet. You've never thrown it in my face before, I don't understand why you are choosing to now."

Harry tried to remain calm. "I'm not throwing anything in your face."

Ginny pointed at the infamous signing card, still floundering under the fruit bowl. "Then what the bloody hell do you call that!"

Harry forged ahead. It had to be done. "You gave me a card because you liked me. I am sorry I said it embarrassed you when it didn't. But I assumed it did and I was trying to do something embarrassing for you."

"Why?" she asked, flabbergasted.

"I was trying to," Harry waved a hand around at a loss. "I don't know, to prostrate myself or something. To try and make up for whatever I must have put you through then."

"What are you talking about?"

"I guess I was hoping it was obvious." Harry rubbed his hands through his hair furiously. This was it. He was just going to have to spell it out. "Look, I kept the card you gave me. Hermione said I would have to do something to convince you. Something good. She said you might not want to like me again. I kept the card. I might not have liked you the way you wanted then, but I also couldn't throw away something you gave me. I'm hoping that says something." He stopped and lowered his voice. "Because I am noticing you now."

Ginny looked terrified. Great, now she thought he had gone absolutely nutters. Why did he have to be such complete and total rubbish when it came to everything to do with girls? He felt like an idiot. Perhaps the biggest idiot ever to walk the earth.

And then she said something that made him feel even worse, "I'm not sure I do want to like you again Harry."

The next day Harry felt terrible. He must have looked it to, because Hermione kept shooting him concerned glances. Finally, after lunch she actually sent Ron off on a false errand to the library to find a book for her. Harry appreciated how worried she must be to use such a tactic.

Alone, she immediately asked, "You went to see Ginny again didn't you?"

Harry thumped his head against the table. "Yeah."

"And?" she asked eagerly.

"She's not sure she wants to like me."

"Well that's good news," Hermione said sounding rather matter of fact.

Harry was gobsmacked. His head shot up. "How is THAT good news?"

"Because it means she hasn't absolutely decided against it," Hermione said helpfully. "You could still convince her."

"Maybe I'm not sure I want to," Harry grumbled. "Last night was the most humiliating of my life. Sorry if I'm not keen to endure a repeat performance."

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment. Then she said, "For my birthday Ron and I had a picnic by the lake."

"What are you going on about?"

Her eyes glazed over a bit as she remembered. "It was sunny and warm and it had been a really stressful week and somehow I fell asleep. When I woke up, Ron was curled around me, playing with my hair. The way he was gazing down at me it seemed like he would always love me, always take care of me and watch over me. Then he kissed me and I knew it was true. We spent the rest of the afternoon out there. I can still remember every detail: what the air smelled like, how scratchy the blanket was..."

Harry decided to interrupt before the image of his two best friends together became really disturbing. "Hermione, I really don't want to know this."

"I know you don't. But do you want to feel it, with Ginny?"

The image changed and that was it, clarity. To feel that close to someone, that cared for. It was something Harry had never felt. A simple sunny afternoon on a blanket with a girl. He wanted it. So terribly his mouth went dry.

Hermione's voice suddenly raised dangerously. "Then for crying out loud, act like the wizard I know you are and fight for her!"


	6. Chapter Six

**Bewitched and Bewildered: Chapter Six**

The drizzling rains of October slowly turned into the chill of November.

Harry continued his Occlumency lessons with Dumbledore and apparently he was becoming quite adept. His scar almost never bothered him anymore. Of course it was also possible Voldemort was simply working just as hard to sever the connection, keeping Harry ignorant of any sinister schemes. Either way it meant that if he wanted to, Harry could choose to ignore his future for periods of time. Almost.

The prophecy remained ever present in the back of his mind to some degree. But if Harry ever thought about it too hard, horrible images would plague his mind. Dumbledore coming to him in the night, simply saying, "It's time." Handing him his wand and sending him off to his fate. Or worse, seeing himself walking through his day, turning some corner and coming face to face with that horrible snake-like visage and chilling laugh. And Harry wouldn't have his wand out and Voldemort would strike him down. Both thoughts would fill him with such anxiety that he would become physically nauseous, so he pushed all thoughts of Voldemort away as hard as he could.

Perhaps it was denial, but what else could he do?

If he was going to die at some frightening age, like seventeen, Harry would be damned before he spent every single day just waiting for it. No, it was far better to live his life as normal as he could and hope that when the time did come, he would at least be ready.

It helped that he was just as busy as he had been in September. And now he had a new project: fighting, as Hermione put it, for Ginny. And Harry fought as hard as he could. Or rather, he owled fairly aggressively.

The day after the whole horrible singing get well card incident he ordered some flowers and a proper note and had them delivered to Ginny in the hospital wing. When Ginny came back she didn't mention either.

The Halloween visit to Hogsmeade he picked up a few sugar quills and sent them to her dormitory that night with Hedwig. The same trip he also bought a small silver locket in the shape of a quaffle. He tied that to Hedwig's leg a week later. The note apologized for missing her birthday that summer and he tried for a joke, saying if only she had driven him from the drawing room a few days earlier, she might have received a present on time. Still, nothing.

He tried to make a point of complimenting her at least once a day. Despite what an idiot he felt like, the curious looks he received from Ron and the daggers Ginny shot at him every time he did it.

Finally, when he had no idea what else to try, Hermione accompanied him to the library and helped him select an appropriate poem. This time he used a school owl and had the letter delivered with the rest of the post. The way Ginny refused to acknowledge anything else he had sent so far, the curiosity was killing him. He had to see her reaction.

It wasn't exactly what one might call glowing.

As she sat scowling at the note, Ron asked her what it was. She folded the paper and said, "Just some git trying to sell me something, who doesn't know when to quit."

Ron nodded and returned to his eggs, but a second later he looked back up and asked, "It's not from Percy is it?"

"No Ron," she smiled serenely, "different git." As she said the words, her boot connected painfully with Harry's shin.

So much for using the regular post. Harry went back to sending Hedwig on special deliveries to the girls' dorm. He might have stopped altogether, especially after the kicking incident, but Hermione assured him that nothing he had given to Ginny so far had been thrown away. And that, she promised him, was a very good sign.

As Harry and Ron drilled the team for the quidditch match against Slytherin at the end of November, Harry had no idea just how significant this particular game would turn out to be. Nor would he have ever guessed that the impetus for the shift in his relationship with Ginny would come from non other than resident slimy git, Malfoy.

As the two teams met at the centre of the pitch, Draco, as usual, used the opportunity to play a few derogatory mind games. This time he chose to pick on Ginny. "Oh, if it isn't the little Gryffindor mascot for nepotism. Must be nice to have both your brother and your boyfriend as Captain." Strangely he decided to direct his loathsome grin towards Harry as he continued, "It's so sad. I thought you'd finally found enough self-respect to stop being Potter's little groupie. Makes sense though, since no one else will have you. I heard you weren't even good enough for that mudblood Thomas."

"Did your Dad make it to the game Malfoy?" Ginny asked mock innocently. "Oh I forgot he can't. He's in PRISON."

Malfoy's eyes suddenly turned viciously cold. "He'll be out soon enough. You of all people should know what it's like to have friends in the Ministry, considering you ought to be rotting in Azkaban yourself." Ginny froze as Malfoy continued in a lower voice, "That's right, I know all about what you were up to your first year. Maybe it's about time the rest of the school finally learned your dirty little secret."

Harry never made a conscious decision to move. All of sudden his body was in the air, lunging at Malfoy's pale scrawny throat. No doubt about it, he was going to kill him. And he was going to do it with his bare hands. Wands were too good for the evil little bastard.

Almost as abruptly as Harry's feet had left the ground, he felt several pairs of hands grabbing his robes and pulling him back down. Inches from his target, Harry was forced roughly, painfully, down in the dirt. He expected to find himself pinned beneath Crabbe and Goyle. Instead he was shocked to discover Sloper and Kirke on either side of him, pinning his arms, Katie Bell was struggling to hold his legs and Ron was sitting on his back. "Ron, get off me!"

"No way Harry," yelled Sloper.

"We're not going through a repeat of last year," muttered Katie as she continued to grapple with his kicking feet.

"Sorry Harry," said Ron steadily. "We can't afford to let Ginny fill your spot again. We'll never find another Chaser as good."

"But that was Umbridge," Harry hollered. "McGonagall would never ban me! Let me kill him!"

"Sorry mate, can't take the risk."

Harry was absolutely flabbergasted at Ron's apparent calm. "Did you hear what he said about your sister?"

"I did, but I am making this decision for the good of the team. Besides," Ron's voice took on a dangerous tone, "he will never say anything about it again if he knows what's good for him."

"Not to mention the fact that Malfoy knows full well he'll never manage to get you banned for the year. I expect he's just trying to get you kicked out for the game, so he doesn't have to fly against you." This last bit was from Sloper. Harry had never heard him say anything so strategically apt.

Malfoy was quite taken aback at Sloper's apparently accurate insight regarding his motives. His usually cool voice sounded a bit agitated as he uttered, "I'll fly against Potter any day," before he turned and stalked back to his team.

Harry felt Ron shift his position as he turned to say, "Nicely done."

"Anytime Captain," Sloper grinned with a mock salute.

Harry still wasn't mollified, "What about Ginny!"

"Believe me, it will be taken care of," Ron declared. "Now are you finished?"

Harry finally gave up and stopped squirming, his face resting in the dirt. He felt Sloper, Kirke and Katie slowly release him, before Ron blessedly stood up, removing his considerable weight from Harry's back. Harry pushed himself up to his feet, dusting the dirt off his robes. For the first time he noticed that Ginny was no longer standing with them. A glance around found her ready in her position to start the game. A deep scowl darkened her features. As Ron moved to head back to the hoops Harry grabbed his arm. "Ron!" he seethed.

Ron placed a firm hand on Harry's shoulder. "This isn't the end of this Harry. But right now we have a game to play and I need you concentrating." Then he smiled a bit dangerously. "Of course, if you manage to knock Malfoy off his broom in a dive for the snitch, there's always a chance Madam Hooch might not notice."

Though the will was there, Harry never did get a chance to knock Malfoy anywhere. Instead he caught the snitch in record time, only giving Ginny and the other Chasers a chance to score a handful of goals. Apparently seething rage helped him to fly even faster than ever before.

After the game, despite the win, Harry was still feeling agitated and stayed behind a bit, under the guise of tidying up the change room. When he finally emerged, Ginny was waiting for him. Red hair flaming, she positively flew at him. "I can bloody well fight my own battles!"

Harry was in no mood. "That's a bit rich, coming from you."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

Harry glared at her and seethed, "I made it abundantly clear I didn't want you coming to the Ministry last spring, but I couldn't manage to stop you now could I?"

Ginny threw her arms in the air, "That's completely different."

"How?"

"Because... Because... Sod off!" A picture of absolute fury, she turned and stormed across the grounds.

As Harry watched her go, one thought flowed through his brain: she was as frustrating as hell, possibly even insane, but damn it, he still loved her.

Oh shite!

Still wet, grumpy as hell and possibly a little stinky, Harry collapsed into his favourite chair in the common room. Even despite his mood he couldn't help but notice both Weasley's were conspicuously absent. He also couldn't help but notice the curious way Hermione was staring at him, apparently waiting for him to speak. "Where's Ron?" he asked her.

She frowned, "He's in a bit of temper. He's gone off to the Owlrey to send an urgent message to Fred and George." Hermione leaned forward, lowering her voice, "What did Malfoy say?"

"Well, basically," Harry answered, "he threatened to tell the whole school that Ginny was the one to open the Chamber of Secrets."

Hermione's eyes went wide with shock. "Oh."

"I don't suppose it would help to make sure everyone finds out Malfoy's dad set her up?"

She shook her head. "I don't think it would make a difference. His dad is already in prison for being a death eater. Malfoy's reputation can't exactly be hurt any more by accusations of something else his father did. And even if people knew Ginny was possessed, they're still going to treat her like she's a freak."

"I hate this," Harry moaned, putting his face in his hands. "I want to do something."

"Don't worry Harry," Hermione soothed. "I am sure Fred and George will have the situation well in hand."

"Meanwhile, she's furious with me just because I wanted to strangle the nasty bugger." Hermione stifled a giggle. Harry pointed a finger in her direction, "This seems greatly unfair you know."

"How so?"

"I've been watching Ron throw punches and hexes every time someone even looked at you crossed-eyed since second year and I've never seen you scream at him for it. He even got detention from Snape for telling him off in class for calling you a 'know-it-all.'" Hermione just glowered at him, arms crossed over her chest. "What?"

"And here I'd thought you had noticed that Ginny and I are different people." She glared at him for what felt like a full minute to get her point across. Then she waved her hands absently, "Honestly, sometimes Ron gets more upset about those things than I do. Look, I was never happy to see Ron either with a bloody lip or in detention, but as he isn't exactly demonstrative with his feelings, it was his one way of showing how much he cared for me. And that was nice to know." Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment. "Actually, come to think of it, Ginny might be upset for the same reason."

"What's that?"

"Well," she answered, "she is trying to reject you. You attempting to kill Malfoy is just another demonstration of your affections."

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Not necessarily."

"Oh please," Hermione said dismissively, "you've never tried to kill him for me."

Of course, Harry had never needed to and he was usually too busy trying to restrain Ron. "Well, I always figured you could take care of yourself."

One of Hermione's eyebrows arched in his direction. "And you think that Ginny can't?"

Well that was just silly. Ginny could be downright scary at times. "No."

"Then what's the difference?"

Harry felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. He put his face in his hands and mumbled, "I felt like, like I needed to protect her honour or something."

Hermione nearly doubled over with her snort, "Exactly."

Harry felt a little dazed. "Oh."

The next day at breakfast Harry couldn't help but feel that Ron's spirits seemed a little inappropriately high considering the circumstances. He plowed through his food and even happily greeted anyone who happened by. Including several people Harry was fairly certain Ron had never bothered speaking to before.

Pulling his eyes away from his deranged best friend, Harry scanned the rest of the hall. Still no sign of the pale faced nemesis. "Where's Malfoy?" he muttered under his breath.

"Oh I wouldn't worry about him," Ron answered while cheerfully helping himself to more eggs. "It seems he had a bit of an incident with a castration charm this morning."

Harry nearly spit out his pumpkin juice. "What?"

"Oh you heard me." Ron's smile was massive. Then he shrugged casually, "Apparently it arrived special delivery. Along with a note telling him his bits would grow back in twenty-four hours, but if he didn't want to be the victim of a more permanent version, he would keep his mouth shut about certain things. It also warned him that if he visited Madam Pomfrey, any remedy she would try to use would only result in making something else disappear."

Next to Ron, Hermione's book slammed down on the table. She was waving her hands in front of her face and making several desperate choking noises. "Alright there love?" Ron asked as he helpfully patted her back.

That night in the common room, Harry spotted Ginny sitting by herself in one of the armchairs over by the window. He decided perhaps it was time to see if she was talking to him again. He started with a safe, "Hey."

She looked up from her book and responded in kind, "Hey."

Electing to take this as permission to join her, Harry sat down. "I just wanted to apologise, you know, for trying to kill Malfoy on your behalf."

Ginny closed her book. "Alright."

That out of the way, Harry was left unsure how to proceed. It was probably best to stick to the basics. "How are you?"

Ginny shrugged, "I'm okay." A small smile graced her lips as she added, "I guess I owe a rather extravagant gift to a few of my brothers."

Harry needed to know. It might be dangerous territory, but he couldn't help it. "Can I ask why you didn't get mad at them?"

She smirked, "Fred and George neutralized Malfoy far more effectively than I would have been able to," she paused before adding pointedly, "yet. Sometimes you just have to sit back in awe and admire them."

Suddenly Ginny heaved a huge sigh before she looked him in the eye and said, "I suppose it is possible I may have flown off the handle, slightly." Harry swallowed and nodded, a little afraid to respond. If they were really coming to a truce, he was frightened of messing it up.

Ginny was staring out the window. Something in her demeanor told Harry to keep quiet. She was gathering her thoughts, perhaps building a little courage. When she finally spoke, her voice was very soft, and she kept her eyes on the sky outside. "When those Dementors were around, that's what I remembered. Finding myself immobilised on the floor in that awful place and knowing that I was going to die there. Then Riddle coming out of that diary like some kind of ghost and thanking me for being such a silly stupid little girl. I could feel the life seeping out of me and he was telling me how proud I should be for all the horrible things I had done and all the more horrible things he would do now that I had set him free. And not to worry, soon I would be dead, but I wouldn't die alone." She smiled bitterly before she finished, "You were coming, my hero to rescue me, and he would kill you to."

Harry felt he needed to say something. He wasn't sure what, but he had to try. "Virginia..."

"But I have put it behind me," Ginny cut him off. She looked at him sharply and continued, "Forgiven myself. Grown up for crying out loud!"

Ginny slouched in her seat a bit and stared down into her lap. "It was easier to spend the match being furious with you than having to think about what might happen if Malfoy opens his mouth." She heaved another sigh and started a tirade, "And I know that it doesn't make sense. That if I'm really over it I shouldn't care what other people think, but I can't help it. It would feel like I was forced back into being the little girl I used to be. And I never want to feel that way again. And I don't want to hear the whispering. And I don't want to see people looking at me like, like..."

"Like they look at me?" asked Harry. Ginny's head snapped up. "It's okay. Hating Harry Potter seems to be almost a yearly event around here. And when people aren't hating me, they're still looking at me like I'm a freak because I can talk to snakes or I'm a lying attention seeking lunatic." Ginny just stared at him as Harry mused wryly, "Third year wasn't so bad, at least then I was just a wimp who fainted at Dementors and had a psychopath trying to kill me."

"Maybe you should try passing out more often," Ginny quipped. She shook her head and said earnestly, "Not everybody hates you Harry."

"No," Harry snorted, "some act like I'm some kind of hero. And that isn't any better. It still makes me a freak."

Ginny mock glared at him and asked, "When did this conversation become about you?"

"Sorry," Harry winced. "What I was getting at, is I know what it feels like. And I hate it. And I never want you to have to feel like that. Ever. No one should ever see you as anything other than amazing and funny and kind, because that's what you are. They shouldn't treat you differently because of something that wasn't your fault that happened when you were eleven. They shouldn't look at you like they look at me. That's why I needed to kill Malfoy."

"You're right," Ginny said cheekily. "It would be awful if I turned into a grouchy git like you."

If the words had come from anyone else, Harry thought he might have been angry. But the brilliant smile she gave him, accompanied by the affection in her warm eyes softened the slight blow. "The world definitely doesn't need two of us," he agreed.

Ginny bent forward and took his hand and Harry felt his breath stop. "One of my best friends has come through far worse in the department of slander and still, for the most part, manages to be one of the most decent people I know. I'll be alright." She stood up, still bending towards him and whispered directly in his ear, "Besides, I know who my true friends are."

For the briefest of moments Harry felt soft lips brush his cheek. He sat frozen, completely unable to move. And she sauntered off, as cool as he had ever seen her, like nothing of import had happened.

Harry was sitting in the Great Hall, not eating breakfast, practically a wreck. He wasn't sure he had slept for a single hour the night before. The same thoughts kept circling in his head. Ginny had kissed him! But why? She had decided not to like him. Did this mean she had changed her mind? Sure, it was only on the cheek, but she certainly wouldn't kiss him if she didn't like him at all. At the very least it seemed a truce of some kind had been reached. And that had to be a good thing. Very definitely, her kissing him, in no way could be bad. And that was good. That was outstanding.

Harry had stalled as long as he could, first in the dorm, then in the common room, packing and repacking his bag. Ginny was always a little later down to breakfast and Harry hoped he could manage to wait for her. A typically troublesome Ron decided he couldn't stand it anymore and had finally grabbed Harry by the back of his robes and dragged him bodily through the portrait hole.

The best that Harry could do was guard the seat next to him. And guard it he did, like a viper. When the first person had tried to sit, Harry had managed a somewhat cheerful, "Sorry, can't sit there, it's saved." Unfortunately, his polite tone quickly descended into a snarling snappish "Taken!" whenever anyone even glanced at the vacancy.

After a scared looking first year scuttled away as though Harry had threatened to hex her, Ron finally piped up, "What's gotten into you this morning?"

Harry tried to sound as casual as he could as he answered, "Just saving a seat for Ginny is all."

Ron seemed boggled, "Why?"

"She needs somewhere to sit doesn't she?"

Ron rather pointedly looked down the half empty table and said, "Right," in such a sarcastic tone Harry knew he was in for an interrogation.

The book Hermione had propped in front of her quivered a little, but she apparently decided to refrain from making a comment of her own. Damn. Why couldn't she have something useful to announce, like news from the elvish welfare front or something?

Fortunately, much to Harry's relief, Ginny chose that moment to arrive.

"Ginny!" Harry popped out of his seat so fast he banged his knees on the table. Suppressing his grimace he gestured to the space beside him and said, perhaps a little too eagerly, "I saved you a seat."

Ginny looked from the bench to Harry and back again, as though she was considering her next move very carefully. Then she smiled brightly, picked something off the table and said, "Thanks Harry, but I just came to pick up some toast. I have to get to class early to discuss a charm with Professor Flitwick." She took a bite and munched as though to prove her point and turned to go.

"See you at lunch then," Harry called after her. "Or supper maybe!"

Ginny swung back around, but didn't stop walking to answer, "Maybe. It's hard to say. OWLs you know." And she was gone.

Harry sunk back down, feeling deflated. Ron was staring at him. "What the hell was that?"

"Nothing," Harry muttered, defeated. Absolutely nothing, he silently added as he dropped his head down to the table.

**Author's Note:** Just a preemptive strike - anyone terribly unhappy with Ginny in this chapter, don't worry, she will get a chance to explain all of this from her perspective in the next chapter. Just be patient with her a bit longer, she is scared. She needs a little time to breathe and process everything that has happened.

And also - next chapter - we finally get to the reason this whole thing has carried an R rating. That's right people, SNOGGING.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Author's Note: **As a result of my teaser at the end of the last chapter, a few people warned me that snogging does not constitute an R rating. And they are obviously correct. Hey, I'm no prude! Heh. So let me take this chance to be more clear and warn anyone who wants a warning about these types of things - there is a **mildly/moderate sexual situation ahead**. It is more than a simple snog. At the same time though, everyone does keep their clothes on. Let's just say Harry and Ginny both have a REALLY good time, if you know what I mean and I think you do. As a result of that act and the semi-frank discussion surrounding it, I chose to give the fic an R rating - mostly because it is definitely above a PG-13. It's kind of a hard thing to define and the gap between PG and R is like massive, so I am erring on the side of caution. But all that said, heed the R - it is probably correct.

Meanwhile - **Ginevra v. Virginia.** I KNOW. Harry doesn't. And I don't mean to sound frustrated because I TOTALLY get why people think I don't know. The story is from Harry's POV and you are only privy to the same information he has. However, Ginny's name IS Ginevra and all will be explained in the finale chapter - otherwise known as Chapter Eight! For more information until then, please see the Author Notes on Chapter Five. And I know it is probably lame for me to repeat this here, since the people who are freaking out clearly aren't reading the Author Notes, but they seem quite upset, so I feel the need to at least try.

And now - what you have all been waiting for: MORE THAN SNOGGING!

**Bewitched and Bewildered - Chapter Seven**

Despite Ginny's apparent rebuff the morning after their alleged truce, Harry felt his confidence growing. Over the course of the next few days' Harry noticed Ginny was acting decidedly odd. She kept staring at him for one thing. And whenever he would catch her eye she would startle slightly and look away. That and she was talking to him again, almost as though the whole singing get well card incident had never transpired. As a result Harry decided to try a slightly different tactic.

The next note he sent with Hedwig simply read, "It has come to my attention that you might be bonkers. I just wanted to let you to know, I still like you, even despite the obvious infirmity."

And amazingly she wrote back, "You know, I hate to sound cliched, but I once heard that the definition of insanity is repeating the same action and expecting a different result. If I'm bonkers, you're the king of the looney bin."

And Harry replied, "Message received. All owls will now desist."

That evening, as Ron and Hermione made their rounds, Ginny sat across from him, sucking on a rather familiar looking sugar quill and staring at him completely unabashed. After five minutes he couldn't take it any more. He slammed down the book he was trying to read and blurted, "What!"

She didn't say anything. She rose from her seat and walked over to his chair, holding his gaze the entire time. Then she leaned over him, so close he could feel her breath on his face. She didn't move for what seemed like hours. Slowly she leaned even closer still and ran the tip of her nose along the side of his own, first on one side, then the other. That done, she abruptly stood up and sauntered from the room.

The next morning Harry found himself tying a chocolate frog to Hedwig's leg.

And that night Ginny brought it down to the common room and ate it, very, very slowly.

On and on the silent banter continued, until weeks had passed and it was time to return to Gimmauld Place for Christmas break. Harry was a little torn. With the school year going so well, he had been looking forward to returning to his old tradition of Christmas at Hogwarts. But at the same time, he couldn't be surprised at Mrs. Weasley's insistence on having her family together. And with Hermione included, it might even be like his own normal family Christmas. Even if it had to be at headquarters.

Unfortunately, the first night got off to a rather upsetting start. As Harry and Ron were getting ready for bed, Mr. Weasley came to their room. Harry knew at once that something was wrong. Mr. Weasley, looking rather pale, quickly informed them that Remus Lupin had been attacked while on a mission for the Order. Other members of the Order had responded quickly and he would be okay, but he would be in St. Mungo's for the next several days. Harry could visit the next afternoon if he wished.

Despite all the assurances that Lupin would be fine, Harry barely slept that night. He couldn't escape the feeling of guilt that gnawed horribly at his stomach. He knew he had to see him. At the same time, he knew the whole thing would be awkward and terrible.

The next day, Harry stood in the hospital hallway, trying to figure out what he could possibly say. Finally he decided just to get it over with, took a deep breath and opened the door.

As soon as Harry walked in, Lupin called out from the bed, "I am sorry to disappoint you."

"I'm sorry?" Harry asked, confused.

"I'm not dead," he said, sounding rather matter of fact.

It could have been a terribly biting remark but Harry could detect the beginnings of a smile tugging at Lupin's mouth. Harry gave a bit of grin. "I never wanted you to die," he said walking forward.

"No, but it might have been a bit of a relief." Harry stared, gobsmacked. Lupin raised his arms in a dramatic gesture. "I am well aware of my position as the last remaining Marauder. I suppose I must seem a bit doomed."

"Just a little," Harry agreed.

"It's interesting," Lupin mused. "It's the same position I was in three years ago, when Peter was dead and Sirius the traitor. Somehow I managed to survive for twelve years."

"But Petegrew wasn't really dead," Harry pointed out. "And Sirius was wrongfully convicted. That's all been worked out now."

Lupin nodded. "I see."

"Not to mention the fact you're fighting in a war," Harry continued. Really the evidence was just damning.

"Of course," Lupin conceded.

Harry sat down in the chair next to the bed, feeling his point had been made.

Lupin huffed a sigh, seeming to consider the evidence before him. "I'm surprised I still manage to leave the house every morning."

Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not sure I would recommend it."

Lupin allowed a small laugh which ended in a melancholy smile. Then he turned to Harry with a far more serious expression. "It's very easy, when those you love are taken from you, to try to cut yourself off from connecting with others. It's probably animal instinct to protect yourself from being hurt again. Fifteen years ago I lost everyone who was truly important to me in a matter of days. That on top of the lycanthropy was a blow I just couldn't take. I walked alone in this world without a true friend for twelve years."

"What about Dumbledore?" Harry asked. "He gave you the teaching position."

"Dumbledore is a friend," Lupin agreed. "A supporter certainly. But he's not a best mate. And he certainly isn't a girl," he said with a wry grin.

Harry laughed.

"What I am trying to say Harry, is that while my actions may be understandable, it was a waste of a decade." Lupin seemed to drift off for a moment before he added, "I didn't really appreciate that until I had Sirius back."

For the first time Harry really allowed himself to consider how Sirius' death had affected someone other than himself. And he was surprised to realize he was no longer certain whose pain was greater. "It must be awful. To lose him a second time."

"It is," Lupin acknowledged. "It feels like my chest has been ripped out." He gave a surprising snort. "And it turns out the familiarity of being alone again is actually terrifying, rather than a comfort. So I'm not going to do it again." He fixed Harry with a meaningful stare. "I would like to be your friend Harry."

Harry looked at Lupin. He felt petrified. He remembered how relieved he had felt at fourteen to realize he had someone in his life he could turn to for advice, someone like a parent. He wasn't sure he wanted to attempt this path again. But all of that felt too complicated to admit, so instead he offered, "You are the only connection I have left to my parents." It was true. If he lost Lupin, all ties would finally be severed.

Lupin answered "Yes," in a tone which told Harry he understood the gravity of the risk Harry was taking.

The temptation was almost as overwhelming as it was frightening. Finally, Harry steeled himself and offered his hand. Lupin grasped it and they shook. "Fine," Harry declared, "friends."

"Good," Lupin looked pleased.

The handshake paused as Harry raised a finger to amend, "Don't die."

"I'll do my best," Lupin chuckled.

As soon as the pact was made Harry felt a little different. Safer, more whole in the world somehow. He knew it was an illusion, but he enjoyed it anyway.

The two continued to chat comfortably for a while. Harry filled his old professor, now friend, in on all the details of his first semester. Well, almost. He left out the parts about Ginny. He wasn't sure he wanted to share those particular misadventures with anyone else just yet.

As the conversation wound down, Harry realized he now had an opportunity to find the answer to one of his doubts. If he dared. "There is something I want to ask you, about Sirius." Lupin waited for him to continue and Harry took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Did he know what was in the prophecy?"

Lupin observed him for a moment. "It seems that you now know yourself."

"Dumbledore told me last spring."

Lupin seemed to consider how to answer for a moment before he spoke. "I can only tell you what I was told Harry," he said. "That the prophecy spoke of a child matching your description as a person who could destroy Voldemort and that is why your parents took you into hiding. I am not sure if Sirius ever knew more than that. I am afraid we didn't really discuss it."

Harry was more than a little scandalized. "You never talked about it?"

Lupin raised an appeasing hand. "You have to understand, Harry, for a long time there it didn't seem to matter. I knew the prophecy pointed to you as a someone who could defeat Voldemort and for all intents and purposes, you had. It seemed your role was over."

"Then why did you think Voldemort was trying to steal it last year?" Harry demanded.

"Because," Lupin answered forcefully, "he believed it may reveal why he hadn't been able to kill you before and use that information to kill you now."

Harry slumped in his seat. "There's a bit more to it than that." He sighed, "It's him or me. Or maybe both of us. I'm not really sure about that part."

He felt Lupin scrutinizing him for a few seconds before he asked, "Do you want to tell me?"

For the fourth time Harry spoke the prophecy allowed. He then also recounted the few other relevant tidbits of information that Dumbledore had given him the previous spring. When he finished, Lupin was regarding him with deep sympathy. "I am sorry Harry."

Harry swallowed over the painful lump in his throat. He really didn't want to dwell on his fate too heavily right now. "Do you think Sirius knew?"

Harry could tell that Lupin was contemplating the question very seriously as he closed his eyes and thought about his friend for a while. Finally he answered, "My best guess is that Sirius did not know the exact wording, but that he may have suspected. And knowing that he had been denied the information, he may have believed that the one person Dumbledore would consider revealing the full contents to would be you. And that is why he was trying to make you ask questions."

How did that make any sense? Why wouldn't he have just been straight with him? Harry was dumbfounded and sounded it. "Why didn't he just tell me?"

"I don't know Harry," Lupin said sounding rather tired. "Possibly, respect for Dumbledore. His natural inclination to try to get around the rules, rather than break a direct order. Sirius was your godfather Harry, but Dumbledore is our leader in this war. And he had led us to success in the past."

"He didn't," Harry nearly spat.

"Harry?"

Harry felt his old anger returning. "The only reason Voldemort vanished for all that time is because my mother sacrificed herself to save me. It had nothing to do with Dumbledore or anyone else."

"That ultimately may be true, but we fought for a long time before that happened. A lot of people died, but many other lives were saved as a result of our efforts and Dumbledore's leadership. We may not have been turning the tide, but we were holding it back, until you came along." Lupin smiled at him sadly, "I'm not giving you the answers you wanted."

A few hours later, Harry was once again sitting in the drawing room in Grimmauld Place. The charred hole in the family tapestry was just as fascinating as ever. Harry had so hoped to absolve Sirius of any guilt and now he was left with just as many questions as before.

It was the middle of the night and everyone else in the house was asleep. Harry was feeling a little cold in the large room in nothing but his old faded pajamas, but he didn't care. The chill suited his foul disposition just fine.

The door to the room creaked open. Great. Now what?

Ginny entered, dressed in a pair of faded flannels covered with flying brooms. Harry was relieved at her attire, if she was in anything else he would have to be embarrassed about his own.

Trying, at least, not to sound too surly he asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," she answered simply.

"Why?"

Ginny sat down beside him. She looked like she had something to say, a lot to say, but was having difficulty. Finally she took a deep breath, "Care for a snog Harry?"

Harry was flabbergasted. "A snog?"

"Yes."

"A full out snog, not even just a kiss?" It was amazing how fast his mood could swing. He suddenly wasn't feeling grumpy anymore. He wasn't sure what he was feeling, but it wasn't grumpy.

"Mmhmm."

A million questions started to form in his brain: was she kidding? Had she gone mad? Not to mention just plain old why? But his heart started to thump, his throat dried and his stomach buzzed and he realized he would be the boy who was stupid if he didn't push them all aside. "Alright."

Ginny licked her lips and moved closer to him. At least she had the decency to appear slightly as nervous as he felt. She removed his glasses. "I've always loved your eyes you know."

He didn't. Almost as an automatic response he said, "Apparently they're my mother's."

"She must have been beautiful," Ginny breathed.

"She was." He was about to say "just like you," but quickly decided comparisons with his mother were far too dangerous at this particular moment, especially considering Ginny's distinctive hair.

She inched closer and he closed his eyes, just wanting to bask in her nearness a bit. He could feel her breath, warm on his face. He remained as still as possible, terrified that if he moved, even a little, she would remember that she still hadn't decided if she liked him and might change her mind. Her nose gently nudged against his own. The anticipation was nearly killing him. She was about to kiss him. Any moment now. Hopefully before he barfed.

Soft lips brushed his own. Just for a moment.

Then again, a little longer.

And again, longer and harder still.

He moved. He couldn't help it. His hands slid into her hair and held her to him. Everything started to move faster. Mouths opened and he could finally taste her as her tongue deliciously slid against his own. The flavour was heady, human, almost indescribable aside from the slight hint of minty-fresh. She had known she would be kissing him when she came down the stairs. A bizarre thought entered his brain: conjuring a happy memory for a Patronus would never be difficult again. But thoughts were pushed away as small hands came up against his chest and pressed him down.

Her weight covering the length of his body felt amazing, especially as her hands began to dance: lightly over his face, into his hair, grabbing his arms and over his chest and back again.

Harry could almost count the number of times he had been touched in love or affection. A few hugs from Hermione. That kiss on the cheek at the end of fourth year. One wonderful motherly hug from Mrs. Weasley, plus a few others as she fussed over him in the last year. A few kisses with Cho, before he ended up holding her as she cried.

Nothing in his life compared to this.

And he needed more. The need was so great it was almost choking him and he had to let it out.

He started trying to turn them over and she seemed to understand as she began to wriggle against in an attempt to help. It was all a bit awkward, arms and legs everywhere, lips still desperately glued together, but the wriggling felt pretty good, till finally he found himself on top of her, and somehow, amazingly, cradled between her hips.

He could feel her heat radiating up against in him the best possible location. On instinct he rocked himself up against her. She made this little noise, something between a whimper and a moan and he took that as good sign and rocked again. And again. Her legs wrapped up around him and he hoped that meant she was enjoying this as much as he was, because if he had to stop... Well, something really terrible would happen. Like he might die or go insane or something.

He had gone from almost no physical contact whatsoever to something that was unbelievable all at once and it just couldn't stop. The rocking became much more insistent. Breathing turned to panting and their kisses became broken, landing haphazardly on the lips, the cheek, the nose, everywhere. He felt her hands travel down to his bum, holding him firmly in place and he was lost.

For a few moments she went terribly rigid, her hips squeezing his almost painfully and he worried he was hurting her. But then he felt her sucking his ear and she started raining kisses that seemed much less urgent than his own all over his face.

It was so strange, he was so far gone he was only really conscious of two things. Everything inside his head, which was still aching with need, but also screaming with joy. And his sex, which was also aching with need and about to let out a scream of its own. Some part of him knew that he was about to make a terrible mess, that he should pull away. But he couldn't, stopping was unthinkable. He needed desperately to fall into that oblivion he knew was coming. Any moment now. Just a few...more...seconds. Please. Please. Please!

Bliss!

His whole body shuddered and convulsed, down from his head and up from his toes, out that one part of him in an unfathomable burst of ecstasy.

He was aware he was making several gasping, choking noises until he regained a bit of control and returned to simple heavy breathing. He lay his head against her neck and held her tight, still needing support. He had never felt so warm or so safe. Ever.

One by one his senses returned to normal. He could feel her hands stroking his hair. Her voice whispering in his ear. She was all sweaty under him. Both of them were completely soaked. And he was, oh Lord, he was wet and sticky.

Joy was gone and he was seized with panic. He pushed himself up and off of her and to the other end of the couch, as far away as possible. Oh God. This was unbearably, humiliatingly awful. He couldn't believe what he had just done. She had asked for a simple snog and he had... He had completely lost control. In the most amateurish, horrid way possible. She would hate him. At the very least she would be completely embarrassed by him. He was absolutely, thoroughly perverted.

A tiny voice came from the other end of the couch, "Harry?" She sounded confused rather than angry. Well, at least that was a start.

Everything was blurry. He wasn't sure he wanted to see her face, but he couldn't just sit there in a fog. "G, glasses?" They were pressed into his hand. As he pushed them up his nose Ginny's face emerged from the haze. Her hair was a total mess, sticking to her face here and there with sweat and she was a bit pink. She looked beautiful.

She also looked very concerned. "Harry, what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry Ginny," he stuttered.

"For what?"

"For that," Harry gestured awkwardly at the space between them. "I didn't mean to, to..."

"But Harry," Ginny interrupted. "I liked it."

Harry was stunned to say the least. "What?"

"It felt good. I mean, you know that I," she waved her hand, looking a little embarrassed, "you know, did to. Right?"

"No."

"You couldn't tell?" she asked in a small voice.

"No."

Ginny smiled shyly. "Maybe I'll let you know next time."

"Don't you think this is embarrassing?" Harry asked, still not really believing she wasn't just patronizing him.

"No," she answered firmly. "Harry, everybody does this. I mean there is a term for it you know, dry..."

"Don't!" He absolutely refused to compare himself to an overly enthusiastic terrier.

"Fine," Ginny grinned cheekily, "but it rhymes with bry bumping."

"How would you know what everybody else does anyway?" Harry grumbled.

"Because I live in a girls' dorm," she said as though it was obvious. "Girls talk about, well, everything actually."

Great, giggling girl talk. "Gossip you mean."

"No," Ginny clarified. "Well, some girls gossip. But no, I mean more like a research exchange. Kind of a free market for information crucially necessary to being a girl. Don't you guys talk about this stuff?"

Harry had mostly stayed out of those conversations, not really having much to contribute. "Some of the guys brag, but not about anything they would find embarrassing. The only person I would talk about this kind of thing would be..."

"Ron," Ginny sighed. "And he's with Hermione so you don't. And I guess it's not going to help that you're with me."

"Am I with you?" Harry asked. That was news to him.

"What do you think I am? A slag?" Ginny joked. "And seriously, there is nothing to be upset about." She moved down the couch, bridging the gap between them and taking his hand. "That was amazing. I loved it. I've never felt THAT with another person before."

Harry couldn't help it. He needed to get the attention away from himself. "If it's so normal why didn't you feel IT with Michael?"

Ginny snorted, "Because I was a year younger. And I was too scared to do anything but kissing."

Suddenly Harry was feeling very tired. He pulled his hand away from hers. "Why are you here Ginny? I thought you had decided not to like me."

"Do you want the long version or the short?"

"Let's start with the short," Harry muttered.

"Well," she grinned, "you're very charming and I was feeling bad for you about Lupin."

"WHAT?" Harry leapt off the couch. "This, this, this was because you felt sorry for me! This was pity?" As if the whole thing wasn't humiliating enough, this was absolutely horrid.

Ginny stood up and tried to reach out to him but Harry dodged and began pacing. "I thought you might need the long one. Harry, sit down."

He swung around and pointed an accusing finger in her direction. "You! You are one of the only people who has never acted like I needed taking care of. Well you certainly took care of me tonight didn't you?"

Ginny grabbed him by his shirt collar and shoved him back down to the couch. Hard. "I did no such thing." Harry stilled, almost afraid to move. "Now you are going to sit still and listen."

Harry appraised Ginny warily and decided his best course of action was to do as he was told.

"Do you remember the Yule Ball?" she started.

That again. "Of course." Really, he thought, he was never going to be allowed to forget, apparently.

Ginny sat down beside him. "You were desperate for someone to go with and yet you didn't even consider me."

Harry knew this. Hermione had told him already. Hermione had practically even used the same words. "Do we really need to go back over the history of my being an idiot?"

"Yes." Ginny smiled at him. "Sorry, but yes."

Ginny shook her head, looking a little sad. "I adored you Harry and you never even noticed me. I had worn my heart on my sleeve for three years and I didn't even occur to you when you really needed someone. Ron had to suggest it. That's when I knew, that as far as you were concerned, I barely even existed."

Her voice turned slightly hard. "It was good to know I guess. To have it spelled out, so I couldn't kid myself anymore. But it hurt. A lot. And I knew I just couldn't do it any longer. I decided to steel myself and be rid of you once and for all. I closed the door. And I will have you know it was hard." She looked down and blushed. "Michael helped though."

Ginny breathed out a dramatic sigh. "It was so good to be free of you, you have no idea. I had felt like such a little idiot every time I was near you. And I don't know if you realize it, but you spend a considerable amount of time with my family. To finally feel like myself again when you were around was almost astounding and it really brought into perspective how foolish I had always acted before."

"I never thought you were foolish," Harry said honestly.

"Shhh," she put her fingers to his lips, "this is my story. It was a very good year for me, personal growth wise. And then something truly amazing happened: we became friends. And IREALLY like being your friend Harry."

"Then you gave me that card." Ginny's face visibly blanched at the memory. "There I was sitting in the hospital wing, not the cheeriest of places, feeling hideously ugly and downright sorry for myself. And while I know you're my friend and would never be purposely cruel to me I did think that you were teasing me. Maybe having fun at my expense in some sort of backwards attempt at cheering me up. It just... It had just honestly never occurred to me that you were EVER going to like me. And I'm sorry Harry, but it made me feel like that little idiot again and I realized how immensely important it was that I NEVER go back there."

Harry felt the need to interrupt, to clear himself. "But I explained..."

"I know and that was even more horrifying." Ginny took his hand again, trying to make him understand. "I was terrified Harry. You were my first crush and I've always cared for you and we had become so close that I realized if I opened that door again I would be lost. I would fall hard and I might not get back up. If you just fancied me a little and we dated a bit and you decided it wasn't going to work after all, I would have been in for a world of pain." She swallowed and added in a quiet voice, "I just couldn't risk it."

"Then you wouldn't go away and you became so annoying," Ginny continued, suddenly sounding exasperated. "I finally broke down and asked Hermione what the hell was wrong with you."

Oh God. Harry didn't even want to imagine that conversation. "Hermione, she didn't..."

"She wouldn't tell me much." Ginny glared at him. "She was frustratingly loyal to you. She told me that you were serious. That you weren't just playing around and she wanted to impress on me the fact that it seemed you really cared for me a great deal and had for a while. That was the night of the quidditch match with Malfoy." She squeezed his hand. "The next night when we talked, I cracked. And you got in. Even though I had been trying so hard not to let you."

Harry felt the bolt of injustice with ever fibre of his being. "But that was a month ago!"

"Come on Harry," Ginny groaned. "I know you noticed my reaction to you changed. You can't deny you were playing along, at least a little."

"Maybe," Harry grumbled.

She gazed at him imploringly. "It wasn't until I calmed down and stopped being mad at you all the time that I really appreciated what was happening. You were chasing me! It was amazing. And when I allowed myself to actually have those feelings again, I'm sorry, but I couldn't get enough."

Harry still couldn't let it go. Three weeks of snogging, totally thrown away. "Amazing for you maybe."

Ginny lifted her arm and pulled on her pajamas in demonstration. "Like I said, heart on sleeve, nearly three years, you deserved it. And I don't think you are getting the gravity of this: after all this time, YOU were chasing ME. I'll be honest," she said, looking a little devilish, "I was a little tempted to play with you until this summer. Then sometime at the Burrow I was going to toss you in the pond and have my way with you."

"If we even get to go back there this summer," Harry griped.

"Excuse me," Ginny raised both eyebrows, "this was my fantasy and it was a good one."

"So what made you decide to have mercy on me?" Harry asked in earnest.

"Like I said," Ginny shrugged, "Lupin. I felt awful. I shouldn't have been playing silly romantic mind games with you, even if you did deserve them. Not with everything else you've been through. I'm sorry Harry." And she looked like she meant it.

Harry sighed, "So it really was a pity bry bumping."

"Not pity." She climbed into his lap and put her arms around his neck. "I love you, Harry. And I suddenly realized I didn't want to waste any more time. I wanted to share that with you." And then she started kissing him again.

Now of course Harry had quite the distressing dilemma: what to do with his pajamas. His first instinct was to hide them until he had a chance to clean them himself. There was no way he could allow Mrs. Weasley anywhere near the offending garments. At the same time though, he realized such odd behaviour would only ensure she discovered his guilt. They had already been down this road before.

One night during his first summer at the Burrow, when he was just twelve years old, Harry had woken up from quite the pleasant dream, only to find himself in a bit of a mess. He was horrified. These people had just taken him in! There was no way he could survive such a generous woman discovering his, his, well, his obvious perversion.

Harry did the only sensible thing he could think of. He snuck downstairs at dawn in an attempt to do his own laundry before anyone else was out of bed. Unfortunately he miscalculated. Mrs. Weasley was in the habit of rising early to prepare breakfast for her brood and she caught him standing over her wash tubs trying to figure out which potion was soap.

She tsk tsked kindly at him before saying, "Harry dear, I am happy to take care of your things while you're here." When she attempted to take said things from him, Harry held firm and tried to insist. After all, he told her, she had enough to take care of and was so kind to let him stay, he didn't want to cause her any trouble. Mrs. Weasley pulled at the garments again and said, "Don't be silly, you're our guest and it will be faster for me to do it since I can use magic. No trouble at all."

A bit of a tug of war ensued. Both parties remaining amicably polite until, in a fit of sheer desperation, Harry pulled so hard he nearly knocked the poor woman to the floor.

Mrs. Weasley regained her balance with a look of grim determination that told Harry she had just figured out exactly what was going on. Harry hung his head in shame as she took the pile from his arms in a manner that brokered no argument. Then he felt a mother's hand squeeze his shoulder. "Harry, I have six sons. What is happening is perfectly normal. There is nothing wrong with you."

It was a relief to hear, but he still couldn't look her in the eye as he turned to leave the room. When he reached the door she commented to him in the same sympathetic tone, "I suppose it's time I send Arthur to have a bit of chat with you and Ron. Tonight after dinner. It should help make you feel better about everything."

Harry managed an affirmative grunt in reply. As he ascended the stairs he couldn't help but notice that Mrs. Weasley's voice took on quite a different timbre as she started muttering, "Damnable, horrible muggles, not telling the boy anything." Then the water started running, drowning out anything else she might have said on the subject.

Mr. Weasley appeared in the bright orange room just as the boys were getting ready for bed. After he had started and the topic of discussion became clear Ron interrupted, "Dad, didn't we already..." A sharp look from Mr. Weasley stoped his son from commenting further. Harry felt even more awful. Ron had obviously already received this particular chat, meaning that this meeting really was all about Harry. Ron was just a beard. It didn't help that Ron's ears turned a dangerous shade of red.

Now Harry was no eejit. He knew where babies came from. Mr. Weasley just filled in all the fascinating gaps, along with the rather harrowing details of what Harry could expect over the next couple of years. He also included a healthy account of what would be happening with the girls, which made Harry rather happy that he wouldn't have to face Hermione for another week. He was also glad for the first time that Ginny still kept insisting on slamming her door in his face.

It will be many years later, when Harry is set the task of speaking to his own son, that he will fully appreciate exactly what Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had done for him. The duty of discussing the facts of life with his own flesh and blood will be nerve-wracking enough, he will only be able to imagine what it must have been like for the Weasley's having to share this delicate information with the quiet boy whom they had only recently welcomed into their home. When he is finished the talk, he will find his wife in the kitchen, sitting at the table quietly sipping a cup of tea. He will kneel in front of her and rest his head in her lap. And he will tell her, not for the first time, how extremely grateful he is for her wonderful family.

But that was still years away and Harry still had an enormous predicament. He knew that because of the deal he had struck with Mrs. Weasley when he was twelve he couldn't start hiding his bedclothes four years later. She would know something was amiss. The only answer was to put his pajamas in with his regular laundry. But as he dropped the items into the basket he still felt a bit guilty. Despite all of Ginny's assurances and how wonderful the experience had felt, a small part of him worried that he had just done something a little bit dirty with the daughter of the family that had practically adopted him.

**Author's note:** It's funny, the last several times I have edited this chapter I have removed words to make the pseudo sex scene, less sexy. It was slightly more erotic in its original form, but when it came time to posting I wasn't sure that was the tone I wanted. That said I hope no one found it too weird.

Harry's comfort with sexuality was something I felt a little passionately about examining. It occurred to me that he has absolutely no support system when it comes to this area. Also, he has had zero by way of physical affection almost his entire life and certainly for all that he can remember of it. It seems to me that when he finally does experience positive touching it might be rather extremely overwhelming.

The sex ed thing - when we met Harry he was ten. When I went to school we covered this stuff in either grade six or seven, I can't remember for certain. And six is the grade that would be equivalent to his first year at Hogwarts. Since we have never been given any indication of Health class in the books, I am using the assumption, for the sake of this story, that is a topic left for parents in the wizarding world.

Of course it is entirely possible they do have Health with Madam Pomfrey and we just don't hear about it, because we will NEVER hear anything about this topic in any of the books. I mean, there was a fade to black for Harry's first kiss! But that is the entire reason I just had to go there on my own.

And if anyone is looking for a plot bunny on a related topic. Something else the books omit for understandable reasons, but I find deeply curious and interesting - Hermione also went through puberty pretty much alone and managed to keep quiet about it. I mean, I had my mom, two older sisters and oodles of girlfriends. Hermione has two boys, clueless ones when it comes to girls at that, as her best friends. The things this poor girl must have gone through and these guys never noticed.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry this took so long to post. There were two issues. First, I think the truth is I really didn't want to finish. It's the last chapter and I am sad! Sniff. And second I have been dealing with a possible problem with the body of the story.

A few people have raised concerns about whether this story blames Harry for not noticing Ginny during her earlier crush. The main point is that it wasn't his fault for not liking her since she would never even speak to him.

I want to take this chance to make it clear that as a reader I do not blame Harry for not liking Ginny. **I barely noticed Ginny myself the first time I read books one through four.** It wasn't until I reread the entire series that I noticed there is something a little sentimental about the way her character is described and I wondered if she was being set up for something. Then in book five she crashes onto the scene and that is when I felt the first stirrings of shipperdom.

It makes perfect sense why Harry did not like Ginny before and he certainly should not be blamed or punished for it.

The problem is however, that Ginny, being the one who wallowed under the crush, does not have the benefit of our perspective. Also, her reaction is emotional, not logical. When you like someone as much as she apparently liked him, and that person doesn't like you back, it hurts. It doesn't matter how impossible the situation is or how illogical feeling hurt may be. Ginny felt rejected and that left a small scar.

Now Harry, as blameless as he is, must contend with that emotional baggage. And that is why Hermione warns him if he wants Ginny now, he will have to work for it.

The bigger problem is that as an author I have failed to make my point of view clear. But that, it seems, is very, very tricky. I can't give the lines to Ginny herself. I worry I am already walking a line with her by making her so savvy on a few other issues. Here I feel she is still too young and way too close to the situation to have the self-awareness necessary to understand and express these ideas. She will get there, but she will probably be 18 or 20. At least. Harry on the other hand, by Chapter Four anyway, is caught up in the idea of liking her and is panicking that he may have missed his chance. We understand why he didn't like her, but he is now swept under the wave of crushdom and is regretting it. He is also a character that tends to take things onto himself.

Meanwhile - as for why Ginny plays with Harry a bit in Chapter Seven. Having someone suddenly notice you, when he didn't before, can be a delightfully delicious experience. And once Ginny has decided to give Harry a chance, she finds herself riding that emotional high. She admits that to him after the bry bumping. It might not be perfect behaviour, but she is only 15 and the whole thing is shiny and new. And in her defence, Harry does realize her behaviour has changed and knows she is suddenly flirting back. In the mongo post bumping conversation he is ignoring this knowledge because he was already grumpy from his talk with Lupin and he is feeling desperately insecure about the whole sex thing.

As a solution to the issue of whether or not Harry should be blamed for not liking Ginny in the past, I have decided to go back and add a few lines to the conversation between Harry and Hermione at the end of Chapter Three. It doesn't give the full Ginny point of view, because Hermione doesn't have that, but hopefully it helps to clear the air a bit.

And now - on to the last chapter! Eeek.

**Bewitched and Bewildered - Chapter 8**

It was fairly amazing, not a single day had passed and Harry was already in dangerously hot water with his girlfriend of, he glanced at his watch, twenty hours. This had to be some kind of record. But it wasn't his fault. Not really. He had his own safety to consider after all.

Ginny just kept doing the most annoying things. Like sitting beside him at breakfast. Okay, he hadn't minded the sitting beside business specifically. He especially liked the part where her thigh pressed up against his, reminding certain parts of his body just how wonderful it had felt being with her the night before. But then she tried to hold his hand! And not even discreetly, but right out in front of everyone!

In a fit of panic Harry had slapped her hand away and knocked an entire pitcher of pumpkin juice flying, flooding the table. Hermione sent him a shrewd glance before casting a few cleaning charms, deftly demonstrating her status as the only seventeen-year-old at the table. Ron merely grumbled while lifting his plate in an attempt to rescue his sausages. Ginny, however, didn't speak to him for the rest of the meal. And she moved her thigh.

Harry had visited Remus Lupin again in the afternoon. This time they steadfastly avoided any loaded topics like prophecies and war and the resulting conversation had been extremely pleasant. Comfortable. Harry was already beginning to feel himself enjoying the relationship. It felt good to have an adult back in his life that he could consider, well, his. One day soon, he might even be able to tell Remus about Ginny. Part of him was ready to burst and wanted to spill everything, but every time he even came close, he felt deathly shy about the whole thing and kept quiet. Instead Harry just talked about all his friends. All the while having no idea how often he mentioned Ginny's name, nor realizing how very obvious he was being.

As a result of his trip to St. Mungo's, Harry and Ginny had missed each other at lunch and he couldn't quite figure out if he was disappointed or relieved. He felt blissfully free of the gitters for the entire meal and that was nice. But at the same time there was a small empty hole inside him that he didn't like at all.

Supper was a different matter altogether. Ginny sat across from him and just as Harry was thinking that was the best solution, she couldn't possibly get him into any trouble, he felt a tiny foot brush against his ankle. A foot that was decidedly missing a shoe of any kind and instead was clad in only a very soft cotton stocking. And he knew that because it had found its way inside the bottom of his pant leg. Harry grinned at Ginny, he couldn't help it. He liked her attentions a great deal, despite the fact he felt they put him in grave danger. She grinned back. It was funny, because somehow he could tell it wasn't really a bold seduction, but rather a flirty hello, but that didn't stop him from making a strange noise when the foot left his pant leg and made its way towards his knee.

Ron immediately looked up and asked if Harry was feeling alright. Feeling trapped, Harry reflexively kicked Ginny in the shin. Ginny let out an audible cry and bent forward, presumably rubbing her offended leg. Ron kept staring at Harry. Adding to the bizarre picture, Hermione slammed her book down on the table in an alarming way that usually meant she was on the verge of figuring out some difficult puzzle.

But none of that compared to what happened that night in the library. Harry and Ron were playing a game of chess when Ginny moved over to them to watch the game. She stood next to Harry and put a hand on his shoulder. Harry decided that was okay, it wasn't like they had a no touching rule when they were just friends and besides, it might have meant she had forgiven him for the whole kicking incident. But then, suddenly and without any prior warning, she glided down and sat in his lap!

Harry just as quickly lunged forward and shoved her to the floor where she landed on her bottom with an ungraceful, "Umph," arms and legs sprawled everywhere.

Ron threw his arms in the air in exasperation and yelled, "Oi, mind the board."

Ginny's glare didn't leave Harry as she picked herself up, brushed out her skirt and plopped down in the armchair next to Hermione. That was it. One bry bumping and Harry had already completely ruined their epic love.

Harry watched Hermione's gaze travel back and forth between Ginny's arms-crossed-over-her-chest fury and his own dejected form. Then, turning a bit pink she suddenly gave him the biggest smile he had ever seen. Hermione tried to collect herself and returned to her reading, but she was obviously struggling. Throughout the rest of the night quiet giggles kept emerging from behind her enormous book, as though she was telling herself jokes.

For her own part Ginny's scowl didn't waver.

Ron, fortunately, didn't seem to notice and blessedly, an hour later, he collected his chess pieces and announced his intent to retire to bed. Hermione jumped up and immediately followed him. Ginny, however, kept Harry pinned to his seat with the sheer force of her wrath-filled stare. Harry figured this was only fair. He probably owed her an explanation as to why he appeared intent on doing her physical harm.

Harry decided it was best to remain right where he was, let her make the first move. After waiting a minute to make sure no one remained in earshot, Ginny rose from her seat. She marched over to him and pointed her wand directly at his face. "You have precisely thirty seconds to explain yourself and you had better make it good."

Harry raised an eyebrow at her. "You do realize you aren't allowed to use that outside of school?"

"I think this might be worth my first warning," she said airily. "And besides, I'm not even sure the Ministry can detect underage magic here at headquarters. Care to find out?"

Staring down the tip of her wand and still having never seen the infamous Bat-Bogey in person, Harry decided it would be best to get right to the point. "I haven't told Ron yet." There was a pause as Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. "About us."

Her wand wobbled a bit, but Ginny maintained her aim. "Do you want me to tell him?"

Alarmed, Harry nearly shouted, "No!" He raised a hand in defeat. "No, I'll tell him. It should come from me." Obviously. If Ginny talked to Ron, Harry might not have a chance to prepare. Whereas if Harry broke the news face to face, he would at least see the punch coming.

"Why haven't you told him?" Not only her tone, but also the way Ginny poked his nose with her wand implied his answer had better be the right one.

Harry couldn't believe she even had to ask. The explanation should have been readily apparent. "Because I don't want to die."

Ginny snorted, "He isn't going to hurt you."

Harry wasn't so sure about that. If Ron found out what had happened the night before, Harry was certain he would die long before Voldemort ever got anywhere close to him. But really, Harry was actually far more upset about the bigger picture. Harry slumped in his chair, "He IS going to stop speaking to me again."

Ginny looked at him like he was off his nut. She laughed, "Are you serious?"

Harry couldn't forget how fast Ron's attitude had changed about Dean last spring. "He always hates your boyfriends just on principal. He doesn't think anyone is good enough for you."

Ginny sighed and returned her wand to her pocket. "Oh Harry, the only reason they weren't good enough for me was because they weren't you."

"I really think you're wrong about that," he grumbled.

Ginny tilted her head and smiled at him. "Ron adores you."

Harry sat up straight and protested, "He is going to decide I am a worthless git."

Ginny wasn't having any of it. "He is going to be delighted. It is going to be one of the happiest days of his life."

She moved to sit in his lap again and this time Harry wrapped his arms around her waist. "I suppose I should forgive you, but only because you're obviously mental," Ginny said as she started to twirl a piece of his hair. "I still can't believe it though. You spent the last few months pursuing me and you didn't bother telling your best friend what was going on in your life?"

"No," Harry answered, still sounding sullen. Then a bit of panic set in. "You didn't mention my pursuing you to him did you?"

Ginny scoffed, "Of course not. I didn't want to have to deal with explaining to him why I was rejecting HIS best friend."

Her hand cupped his cheek and pulled his face towards hers. They rested for a moment, foreheads touching and he marvelled again just how amazing it was to finally be allowed to share this with her. Then insistent lips were moving against his own and he clutched her waist, holding on for the ride. When she sucked his tongue into her mouth he found he wanted, somewhat desperately, to push her to the floor and lose himself in a repeat of the night before. He couldn't help but wonder if there really wasn't something just a little bit wrong with him. But then she suddenly switched positions, straddling his legs and pressed herself down on him in a way that made it seem like nothing mattered except keeping her exactly where she was. It was when she started moving against him that he decided once and for all that he really needed to trust himself, and especially trust this girl, and just let these things go.

The next day, Harry knew what he had to do. He didn't want to do it. With every fibre of his being, he was resisting the very idea, but he had to tell Ron.

It was strange, Harry had been quite aware of the fact that he was going behind Ron's back in his attempts to woe Ginny, that he had only confided in Hermione when Ron was not around, but he had never really stopped to consider the consequences of actually managing to get together with her. Now he was deeply concerned he was about to find himself in the horrible position of having to make a choice between his best friend and his girlfriend. And he just couldn't fathom it.

Harry couldn't imagine not having Ron as a friend. Well, actually he could. It would be fourth year all over again and that would be insufferable. And now, even though it had only been two days, Harry found he didn't want to have to imagine life without Ginny. That was like the sure path to darkness, or something else equally melodramatic.

The problem was Harry didn't see how it was going to be possible to have both. At the very least, his relationship with Ron would be dreadfully strained. Fretting over the inevitable change, Harry slowly made his way to the library, where he knew Ron and Hermione were hiding, feeling a little as though he was walking to his doom.

Harry poked his head in the door to find his two friends looking rather comfortable, snuggled on the couch together, reading a book. Harry cleared his throat as he walked in the room. Apparently, neither Ron nor Hermione felt inclined to get up, but they both smiled at him expectantly. It must be nice, Harry imagined, not to have to worry about getting caught all the time. It was with this thought in mind that Harry steeled his resolve.

"I was wondering if I could have a minute," Harry began, "with Ron." Nobody moved. "Alone," he clarified, saying the word with exaggerated emphasis, hoping Hermione would get the point.

Comprehension immediately dawned on Hermione's face and she quickly rose from her spot, pushing on Ron's chest for leverage. Upon hearing her boyfriends' groan she bent down and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. "That's alright, Harry," she said, "I just want to pop off to my room to get something anyway." As she brushed passed Harry on her way out the door, she gave him a brilliant smile and a wink.

Ron slowly got to his feet, as though sensing the gravity of the impending conversation. "Alright there Harry?"

"Yeah," Harry responded automatically. "It's just, I need to talk to you about something." He paused, bracing himself. Ron appeared to be waiting calmly. Harry took a deep breath and charged ahead. "It's about your sister. Ginny." As if Ron didn't know who his sister was. This was going badly. Harry decided just to keep talking and get it over with. "The thing is, I think I love her. I mean, it's hard to say for sure, because I don't have a lot of experience with these things, but I think I feel as though I love her."

Mercifully, Ron stopped him. "Hold on. Let me get this straight. You think, you might feel, as though you love my sister?" His hands were in his pockets. At least that was a good sign.

Harry realized his mistake and feeling a grand proclamation was obviously needed, he decided to make one. "No, I mean I do. I love Virginia Weasley."

Ron's expression darkened a bit.

Harry decided to keep going while he had the chance and perhaps he would have a shot at making Ron understand. "And I know that now you suddenly think I'm a worthless git, but I would like to point out that you didn't feel that way thirty seconds ago. And anyway, I can't help it, she makes me happy."

Now Ron just looked confused. "What are you going on about?"

"You're mad at me," Harry stated, not really sure why the yelling hadn't started.

Ron snorted, "No, I'm not."

"Maybe I should be more clear," Harry said. He really wanted to get whatever confrontation they were going to have over with and he didn't understand why it seemed Ron was being purposely obtuse. "Your sister and I, we're a couple and we, you know, occasionally, do couple type things, together."

Ron put up a hand, stopping Harry from explaining further. "I don't need the details." He put his hand back down and shrugged. "And I'm not blind. It's been obvious that something has been going on between you two for months now. I was just waiting for the two of you to figure it out and tell me. It was bloody hard not interfering you know." He looked down at his shoes and his ears tinged a bit. "I kinda always hoped it would work out between the two of you."

After a moment's pause, Ron suddenly looked back up again sharply, his demeanor a bit concerned, "But Harry, mate, my sister's name is Ginevra."

Harry frowned at the ground. "Well, now that's embarrassing."

Almost as though she had been waiting just outside the door, Hermione chose that moment to walk back into the room. "Are we all settled then?" she asked.

Ron looked a bit aghast. "You knew about this?"

Hermione put her arms around him and rested her head against his shoulder, all the while smiling at Harry mischievously. "I only guessed that they were actually together. But yes, I did know that Harry was campaigning for Ginny's affections."

Ron remained rigid, refusing to return the hug. "I don't think I like this, being left out and all."

Hermione sighed, "I'm sure you'll think of some way I can make it up to you."

"And on that note," Harry laughed, "I'll leave the two of you alone."

Harry immediately went to find Ginny. He knew she would be very amused to hear the news. And somehow he didn't mind the idea of her laughing at him. He was kind of looking forward to it actually.

Much as he had expected, Ginny was in her room, sprawled out on her bed, surrounded by books and parchment. She was sucking on a sugar quill she clutched in one hand and madly scribbling away with the other. When she heard him enter the room, her head popped up. "How did it go?"

Harry leaned against the doorframe. "Apparently you were right and I've had my head up my ass as usual."

"I told you," she said, sounding very self-satisfied. She started pushing her parchments aside and moved to sit up on her knees. As she did, she told him, "It was really annoying actually. I decided to give up on you, but Ron apparently just couldn't let go of the dream. You have no idea how frustrating it is for your brother to want you to pine for someone who doesn't care for you."

"I'm sorry," Harry said and he meant it. He still hated the idea that she had once ached for him, the way he had for her almost all fall. He walked forward and stood in front of her, staring down into her bright brown eyes.

"Hey, I didn't mean it like that," Ginny said softly. She tugged at his hand and pulled him down beside her. "Ron might have preferred I fall at you feet the moment you finally gave me a second glance, but I think we're better this way. Stronger. And honestly," she grinned, "I could never work out if he was really worried about my best interests or just wanted to find some way to make you his brother."

"Did Ron talk to you, about me?" Harry suddenly found himself fascinated by the possibilities.

"No!" she said, sounding a bit scandalized by the very idea. "But he was so obvious. He made his wishes pretty clear without needing to be direct about it. Every time my personal life came up, you could just tell what he wanted." She rolled her eyes. "Well, okay, YOU couldn't."

There was really only one thing left then, might as well get it over with as well. "So when are we going to tell your mum and dad?" Ginny looked startled and a bit guilty. He wasn't sure he liked that look. "What?"

She swallowed. "I already told Mum."

"When?" Harry asked, trying not to sound too horrified.

"Yesterday. While you were out visiting Lupin." She laughed at him a bit. "I was happy! You couldn't very well expect me not to tell her! Besides, she'll tell Dad and then it will all be taken care of. That's how these things work."

She shifted her position again, sitting astride him, legs wrapped around his waste. Harry pulled her even closer and she tucked her head down into the crook of his neck. It was amazing, here he was, seemingly getting everything he wanted. Well, except that wasn't really true. He was beginning to accept that he was never going to find all the answers he wanted about Sirius. And still, there was Voldemort. There was always Voldemort.

Ginny seemed to feel the shift in his mood. She lifted her head and gazed at him. "What is it?"

Harry swallowed. His throat hurt terribly. "I don't want to die."

Ginny softly stroked his hair. "You're not going to die Harry. Voldemort can't win. Evil can't win, so he has to be the one to die."

Harry took a deep breath. He knew he had to tell her. "It could be both of us."

For a moment, Ginny's hand stopped moving. "What?"

"The prophecy," he said. "There was a dictionary, and I can't figure it out and even Hermione couldn't tell for sure... It could mean that we both have to die."

Somehow Ginny didn't look surprised. "I know," she said in a small voice.

Harry was stunned. How could she know? He was certain of the fact that neither Ron nor Hermione would have broken his trust. "How long have you known?"

Ginny looked a little sad. "Since you told me what the prophecy said. But you didn't know and I didn't think it fit my position as cheerleader to tell you."

Harry nodded, he could accept that.

Ginny's voice sounded stronger as she repeated, "You're still not going to die though."

Harry smirked darkly. "How would you know?"

Ginny took his face in her hands and looked at him very seriously. "There is just no way your story is going to end that way. You're going to have a happy ending. When I look at you, I can just feel it."

Harry wasn't so sure. How could he be? "I don't think it works that way," he confided. "Cedric had no idea what was coming. One second he was there, happy, and then he was just gone, like it was nothing. Sirius, at least he knew he was in a fight, but he was laughing. He thought he was winning."

Ginny rested her forehead against his. "I don't know what to say Harry. Because I am not going to agree with you. I'm sorry, but I just don't believe it." A moment later she tilted her head back and looked a bit cheeky. "We could make a wager if you wanted."

Harry frowned. "That hardly seems fair. If I win, I won't be around to collect."

Ginny's lips brushed against his own. "I could just promise to make losing worth your while."

It wasn't that he was convinced he was going to die, but there were some serious doubts about his continued existence, which were almost always lingering somewhere in his mind. For a moment, Harry set those aside and tried to see his future through her eyes. Seeing himself grown up, with a beautiful redheaded wife, perhaps a few children. Finally, a family of his own. In a little house somewhere. Surrounded in warmth. Freedom. Harry decided then and there, that for however long it took, those would be the images he would try to see, rather than his impending demise. It wouldn't be easy, but he would try. And maybe it would give him the strength he needed to survive.

Harry ran his fingers through Ginny's soft mane of hair. "That would be nice," he said.

Ginny gave him a smashing smile, a quick kiss on the lips and settled her head down against his shoulder. They sat in silence, arms wrapped around each other, for a few moments, just enjoying the peace of being together, all issues now finally being laid aside.

"Gin?"

"Hmmm."

"Why didn't you tell me your name was Ginevra?"

She sat bolt upright and looked at him. "Oh."

"It's rather embarrassing actually," Harry frowned.

"No! I didn't mean it to be. I just..." She looked down and blushed. "Everyone just calls me Ginny. I liked that you were calling me by my full name."

Harry raised an eyebrow, incredulous. "Even if it was the wrong one?"

She glared at him a bit. "I know. It's silly. But every time you did it, it took me by surprise and I liked it. It felt special. And I, I didn't want to, you know, ruin the moment." She blushed furiously again.

Harry put a hand to her cheek and took her in. Softly, "Ginevra." Ginny watched him, expectantly. "It's going to take a while to get used to."

Ginny lowered her gaze. "It is a bit unusual."

Harry leaned in and kissed her slowly. Barely pulling away he whispered the name again. "Ginevra." Noses touching. "I think it suits you. I think it's beautiful."

Ginny beamed.

Fin

**Author's Note:** Well, that's it. Sniff. All of it. I am so freaking sad you wouldn't believe it. This has been so much fun. I don't know if I will ever write another Potter fic, let alone a sequel. A few seeds started germinating in the last couple days - fertilized with my sadness over being finished. The strongest one being the idea to skip ahead two years, after Voldemort is dead and Harry has to figure out what to do with his life. But again, it is just a seed and I don't know how I would ever finish before July 16th after which this universe will cease to exist essentially.

In case you were wondering, in this universe Harry does survive and does have his happy ending. There is a paragraph in chapter seven that looked to the future where I tried to make that clear. But in case you missed it - he lives, he marries Ginny, happy ever after.

Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed. Your continued comments and support have been absolutely awesome.

Gowdie


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